On the Run
by newbieshipper
Summary: this is my version of the Beth and Daryl story. It picks up after Still and begins as a bit of a romance before getting more serious. Please enjoy and let me know what you think, even if you didn't enjoy it.
1. Chapter 1

Running. They were running. Running through the woods. Running as fast as they could. Running from the burning prison; running from the small army that took their home; running from the ever present walkers. Running, running, running. There was little time for anything else.

They stop to catch their breath at last, safe for the present. In silence he begins to build a fire. The nights are cold in the Georgia autumn. She watches his arms flex as he lefts the small logs, watches his chest move up and down as he blows the small flame to life.

He settles with his back against a tree and watches her over the flames. His eyes burn into her soul, sending goose bumps down her arms. He beckons to her to move to his side, "Com'on girl, sit down. I don't bite."

His rough, heavily accented command is hard to resist. In silence, she moves to the log and settles down near to him. "Go on get some sleep; I'll keep watch."

With a nod, she lays down next to him, her head inches from his lap. Truth be told, she would rather put her head in his lap, but Daryl Dixon was not the cuddly type. Still, she knew she was safe with him, secure. He might say things in his anger sometimes, hurtful things, but who didn't? He was rough around the edges and didn't socialize easily but over the last few days he had begun to open up to her. She had learned he had good reason for shutting people out. She hoped he'd never shut her out again. She thought back to the brief moment he allowed her to hold him, to comfort him. She had a feeling it was the first honest, tender moment of support and affection he had ever accepted. She hoped it wouldn't be the last. She held that memory in her mind as she drifted off to sleep.

She woke to Daryl shaking her arm, she began to speak when he covered her mouth and pointed to the trees on the other side of the burning embers of the fire. She could see the walkers, moving slowly in their direction. They hadn't noticed them yet. She sat up slowly and silently, grabbed her bag and together she and Daryl slipped over the log on which they had been resting. They began to creep through the underbrush then they were running again. Running quietly, running quickly, running, always running. The sun was just peeking beyond the trees when they finally stopped again, before they were finally safe again. Exhausted and breathless they sunk to the ground leaning against each other for support.

Beth took a few moments to look around while catching her breath. A few feet away was a small pond, the water clear and sparkling in the early morning light. The clean water reminded her of just how dirty she was. At some point in the night, they stumbled on some uneven ground, sliding down a small hill and covering themselves in mud and dirt. Her skin began to crawl with the realization. Then she was struck by an idea, a dangerous, wonderful idea.

Slowly, so as to not knock Daryl to the ground, she stood and held her hand out to him. He looked at her a moment before taking it and letting her help him up. She held on to his hand and lead him to the pool.

"How about it, it looks safe, right?" she asked as she stepped behind a tree.

"What are you on about girl?" he replied confused.

"We're filthy. I don't remember the last time I had a bath." With that she began taking her clothes off and tossing them over a bush. When he saw the garments he turned his back. "Damn girl, next time warn me."

Beth laughed a little at his shyness but decided to leave her bra and panties on- they needed a wash as badly as did her body. "Yes, MR. Dixon."

Bracing herself for the cold, she stepped into the water. Thankfully the temperature was a bit warmer than expected. She walked in until most of her black bra was covered, then turned to see Daryl still facing the other direction. She squashed her unbidden disappointment at not catching him peeking." Hey, check my bag for some soap, will you?"

He turned and mumbled something that sounded like, "cover yourself up girl," but he went to the bag and soon had a small sliver of soap in hand. He walked to the edge of the water like a shy duckling that hasn't learned to swim and tossed the soap to her. She just managed to catch it. "Thanks. Ain't you getting in."

He shrugged, "Someone's gotta keep watch."

"You watch and bathe at the same time Daryl. Come on, it's not too cold."

"You tryin' t'say I smell bad or sumtin?"

"Well, you're no Cherokee rose." She thought she saw some emotion flash across his face but he hide it instantly. "Come on, Mr. Dixon. It'll do you good."

"Fine, you want me t'smell purdy. Let's do this then." With that he began to remove his shirt. When he began to unbuckle his pants, Beth turned around to watch the sun rising. She heard a splash and tuned back to find him, but there were only ripples. "Daryl? Daryl where are you?" She turned in small circles looking for some clue that would give away his position. "Daryl? Come on now." After a few more seconds she started to get worried. How long can he hold his breath? "Daryl, this ain't funny no more. Daryl?" Just then, he shot up out of the water, right behind her.

"So, you gonna share that soap or what?"

She splashed water in his laughing face, "don't you ever do that to me again Daryl Dixon."

Daryl was shocked at how angry she seemed, had he really scared her that badly? Were those tears on her face, or just water drops? He looked down, abashed, "Sorry, I was just messin'."

Beth felt bad for getting so upset, "no, I'm sorry. I shouldn't get so angry. Just, just don't do that again. Okay? I can't lose you Daryl Dixon. I just can't." Shocked at the words coming out of her own mouth, Beth clammed up quick. She risked a look up at his face, he was staring at her again, this time with a bemused expression. "What, what is it?"

"Nothin'." He said then looked away like he'd been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "So, are you gonna share that soap?"

She handed it over smiling. "Save some for the clothes. Ain't no sense getting' clean, if we gotta get back in those dirty clothes."

He grunted in response and started lathering up.

Beth left him to it and swam around for a while and letting her cares float away. For a few moments she was just a girl swimming with a boy, a man she corrected. She didn't think Daryl Dixon had ever been a boy. After a few more moments, she climbed back up on the bank and grabbed an oversized shirt out of her bag. She put it on and slipped her bra in panties off from under the shirt. She picked up their clothes from where they had fallen and took them back to the bank. She looked up and was surprised (and secretly excited) to find his eyes n her. Again. This time he was staring in earnest. This time was different from the others. Suddenly she was very aware of the shirt clinging to her wet body. She coughed, "You done?"

He looked shocked and began to stutter an apology.

"With the soap, I mean."

"Oh, yeah. Here." He tossed it to her again and looked away quickly.

The soap fell to the ground and she collected it as she looked around for a good place. She finally settled down on the rockiest part of the bank and got to work. She finished her clothes then started on Daryl's t-shirt.

"You ain't gotta do that. Here gimme that."

She jumped; she hadn't heard him get out of the water and now he was standing right next to her, wearing just his boxers. "I don't mind. Really it's okay." She continued scrubbing, trying not to stare at his crotch so close to her face.

"I been washin' my own clothes long as I can remember. Don't see no reason to stop now."

"Fine, here." She handed him the soap and the shirt, gathered up her own clothes and walked around him. He turned his body with hers, careful not to let her see his back. The last thing he wanted was to see pity in her eyes. He had opened up to her, but there were some things her preferred not to share with anyone.

He could hear Beth humming behind him as she hung her clothes over the low hanging branches of a tree. He listened deeper to be sure he didn't hear anything else. All was quiet. They were safe. For now.

He turned back to his task allowing himself to enjoy the simple act of working with his hands. All his life the only peace he could find was in working with his hands.

Behind him, the humming stopped, he heard a small gasp and waited for the inevitable question, but it never came.

His entire body was still tensed when Beth walked over to him her hand extended, "You want me to take that? You're gonna wash a whole in it."

He handed her the shirt and picked up his pants. "You saw?"

She wrung the shirt out as much as she could. "Mm-hmm."

"You gonna ask?" He couldn't look at her.

"You want to tell me about it?" She walked back to the tree.

"No." he whispered as he leaned back against a rock.

"Then I ain't gonna ask." She hung up the shirt then turned back to look at him. He was so tense, so afraid. She'd give anything to make that fear go away. She walked over and sat down next to him. Without looking at him she picked up his hand and put a gentle kiss on the back of it then moved up and took up the task of washing his pants.

He sat back, breathing heavily, trying to relax again. "I said you ain't gotta do that."

She smiled back at him. "I don't mind really. Makes me feel useful."

Her smile helped him relax further and he found himself smiling in return. She looked away and began scrubbing and he climbed up on the large rock he'd been leaning on and lay out in the sun to dry.

When she was done with the work she climbed boldly up on the rock, "budge over will ya, it's getting cold." He grunted but moved over. "You should get some rest. When was the last time you slept?" He looked up at her. "Go on, I'll watch."

He closed his eyes and in a matter of moments was snoring peacefully. True to her word she watched. She watched his chest rise and fall. Watched his eyes move restlessly under his closed lids. She took advantage of his unawareness to return the stares she'd been receiving. She let her eyes rack the length of his strong, muscled body. If anyone was meant to survive the apocalypse it was this man. He began to whimper, like he was having a bad dream, Lord knows he had plenty to dream about. Without thinking she reached up to smooth hair out of his face and comfort him."Don't go, please don't go," he whispered out as he reached out a hand. She took that hand and gently said, "sh, it's okay, I'm here."

His hand gripped hers in a vise like hold and she couldn't have gotten away if she wanted to. She looked around carefully to make sure they were alone then slowly laid down next to him. As soon as she was settled with her head in the crock of his arm, he quieted and slept peacefully.

She wanted so badly to wrap herself around his body, wanted to snuggle down deeply and feel him on ever possible square inch of bare skin. Somehow she thought if he woke and found her in such a position he would retreat from her entirely. She ha worked hard to open him up and would do nothing to lose that trust now. Besides, she was on watch. She allowed her self one more moment to lay next to him then climbed down from the rock to retrieve Daryl's crossbow. She climbed back up next to him and placed the crossbow in her lap. For several hours she watched the sunrise over the horizon, slowly moving so that she and Daryl were eventually shaded by a large oak nearby.

Then she heard it, the leaves rustled as dead feet shuffled through the brush and groaning, rattling breaths reached her ears bringing her out of her reveries. Daryl looked so peaceful, and there was just the one, so with shaking hands she lifted the crossbow. Just like Daryl showed her she aimed at the walkers head, she breathed in and shot. The bolt sailed through the air and pierced the decaying skull of what used to be someone's loved one. With a small splatter of blood, the walker fell.

In her excitement Beth squealed, she had done it! Unfortunately, her squeal woke the man next to her. He sat up quickly, "What's happening, what is it You Okay?"

"Oh, sorry. Sorry, I just..." she glanced at the walker, "I did it! I got it!"

Daryl smiled as he looked from the celebrating Beth to the walker. He noted the perfection shot with pride and got down to get the bolt. "Waste not want not. Nice shot Green!"

"Thanks!" She practically shone in her pride. Maybe she wasn't such a burden after all. "Maybe we can find another crossbow somewhere?"

"Maybe. We'll hafta keep our eyes open."

"Sorry, I woke you up. You were sleeping so well."

"'s'alright, Green. Burnin' daylight anyway. Come on, best get dressed now."

"Right, 'course." Beth hoped down off the rock and cried out in pain as she sliced her leg on the uneven surface.

He was at her side in an instant. He lifted her gently back on the rock and gently took her leg in his hands. "Hols still, think I got some clean bandage somewhere." With that he went to rummage around in his bag for a few minutes before producing a length of bandage and a rag. He wet the cloth in the the pond then came back to her. She hissed in pain as he lifted her leg. "Sorry, but we gotta keep it clean. Don't want to lose it do you?" he stopped his ministrations at her sniffle and looked up to see a small tear roll down her face. "Sorry, again." He began wrapping her leg with the bandage, his rough, work worn hands deft and gentle on her delicate skin. He began at her lower calf and stopped just above her knee. "your daddy, he was a good man. You're lucky you had him."

"I know. I just miss him. And the others." Another tear escaped and ran down her check. Maybe she wasn't quiet so done crying.

Daryl stood awkwardly in front of her, not really knowing what to do. Give him a walker to kill or a deer to hunt and he was fine. Give him a crying female and he was lost. Finally he worked up his courage and took her into his arms. Just a gentle embrace to let her know he was here and he wasn't leaving. It didn't take her long to return the embrace. With all the strength her skinny little arms could muster she held on to him. Too long she had kept her feelings in check. Too long she had held back her tears. She let them go now. She put her head on his neck and just let it all rush out, and he held her, solid and strong. After a while she began to calm but wasn't ready to break the embrace. Before she could think to much about it, she kissed his neck. He smelled so good, like woods and soap. She felt him tense up as her lips touche his skin. He moved his hands away and placed them on the rock to either side of her. She wouldn't let him leave though. "Daryl?"

"Hmm?" he grunted still tense.

"Daryl, can I tell you something?" she held him a little tighter.

"Hmm." he grunted his affirmative.

"Daryl Dixon, I know I'm younger than you," another grunt at that, "but I ain't a kid. We're all we have now. Just you and me. I can't lose you, do you understand me? You gotta promise me, you'll never leave me."

He raised his head back, just enough to look at her. He stared into her eyes and swallowed hard. "I promise Beth Green. I ain't ever gonna leave you. You couldn't lose me if you tried." She smiled as he rested his forehead against hers. They stayed that way a few more minutes before finally breaking apart. They could hear more rustling in the woods. "Come one. We gotta get dressed and find somewhere safer."

They dressed quickly, gathered their few belongings, and hand-in-hand left the pond behind.


	2. Chapter 2

"'S'all locked up. Why don't you try to get some sleep. Think I saw a bedroom at the top o'the stairs." Daryl picks up his dishes and carries them to the kitchen, for the night, their kitchen. He and Beth had holed up in a small house on the edge of town. They found a few canned goods and a bottle of ketchup, a real feast.

"Okay, well goodnight then." Beth walked up to him and kissed him gently on the check.

He looked at her like she had lost her mind. "What was that for girl?"

She smiles sweetly up at him. "Ain't you ever had a good night kiss before Daryl Dixon?"

Something in his bemused expression made her think he hadn't and she frowned. "What am I going to do with you?"

"What are you on about?" he was growing more confused.

She kissed him again, "Nothing. Good night." She grabbed a candle and went up the stairs to find the room. Luckily they had found a house that looked like it had been relatively untouched; it was clean.

There was a small bathroom off the bedroom so Beth took a few moments to go through the drawers and cabinets to scavenge anything they could use. She found some chap stick (Score!), deodorant, more soap and even an unopened package of razors. No shaving cream though. Using a bit of the water from her bottle and the soap she decided, what the hell, might as well have a shave. She carefully did both legs and underarms, she reveled in the clean feeling. "A bath and shave all in one day? It's a miracle!" she thought to herself. She used the last of her water to brush her teeth, then packed everything away and returned to the bedroom.

She made her way around the room. She packed a flashlight a pad of paper and some pens. She found a beautiful jewelry box; but what value were diamonds and gold in a world were the dead fed on the living. She moved her search to the dresser. In the top drawer she found a silk nightgown. It was black and simple. Short and sleeveless, it looked like it might fit. A bit of lace trailed the plunging 'v' neck line. She put the gown on the bed and continued rummaging through the drawers. Nothing much worth keeping. In the bedside table she found something unexpected. She told herself not to be ridiculous, but smiled as she tossed the box of condoms in her bag. Finally, she was too tired to rummage anymore. She pulled off her clothes, placing them neatly on the bed and pulled on the silk nightie. It was a bit big, but the silk felt great on her bare skin. It was nice to have something other than that grubby old t-shirt. She climbed in the bed and tried to sleep.

In the last few days, she had grown use to Daryl being nearby. She missed his subtle but sure presence. After a couple hours of tossing and turning, she gave up and decided to go downstairs and see if he was still awake. Maybe they could share the couch? Or she could sleep on the floor? She picked up her things, always good to have them close at hand and made her way down to the living room.

Daryl had fallen asleep sitting on the couch. She watched him a moment. He always looked so peaceful when he slept, like for those few moments he was free from all his burdens.

She dropped her bag and curled up on the other end of the couch, quietly as she could. She was asleep in two minutes flat. She felt like she had been asleep only a few seconds when she woke up again. She was confused, not sure what had woken her, then she heard it again. Daryl was calling out in his sleep again, "Don't...don't leave."

Remembering that morning at the pond she thought perhaps she could soothe him again. She reached out for the hand he was holding out again and he squeezed it tight. She moved closer and cuddled up to his side. "What're you wearing Greene?"

His voice startled her. She felt like she had been caught doing something wrong. "I, uh, I was lonely and you were having a bad dream, so I thought..." She trailed off.

"It's nice."

"What?" She looked up at him.

"It's nice. The gown. It suits you." He was smiling down at her. "I like the t-shirt better." The hungry look in his eyes scared her and thrilled her at the same time.

"Oh this old thing? Why sir you are too kind." She said in her best impression of a southern belle, joking to cover her awkwardness.

They looked at each other a moment, he hadn't taken his hand out of hers. She decided to do something reckless. Very slowly and deliberately she turned and stood before him, never letting go. "What do you think? A bit big, but it'll do."

Her porcelain skin glowed in the light of the remaining candles. He swallowed hard. "Mm, it'll do."

She watched him for any clues she was pushing his boundaries. He seemed happy and she wanted to make him happier. She stepped slowly over him and lowered herself on to his lap so that she was saddling him. He began to tense.

"What're you doing Greene?"

"You want me to move?"

He paused but shook his head no.

"Daryl, do you trust me?"

"Course I do Greene."

"You know I ain't no little girl, right."

"It's becoming plainer to me all the time."

She smiled at that and was rewarded by his smile. "I wanna try something. Okay?"

He nodded.

She leaned down her face an inch from his. "You okay?"

He nodded again. He was never a man of many words. She lowered her head all the way and brushed her lips over his slowly and gently at first. He tensed under her but she deepened the kiss, pulling lightly at his lips and running her tongue over his lips. After a few moments he relaxed and began to return the kiss. His mouth was warm and inviting, his tongue wide and teasing. He was relaxing more by the moment. His hands were on her waist now, running slowly up and down.

She parted from him a moment and reached to his waist, she looked him in the eye as she pulled up his shirt. He shook out his hair as his head popped out and tossed the unwanted clothing aside. She ran her hands over the newly exposed flesh of his torso and leaned forward to nibble on his ear. He ran his hand up her back under the gown as a small groan escaped from him. "Beth?"

She stopped and looked at him. He never called her Beth. Her eyes were heavy, her blood racing. It was her turn to forget how to talk.

"You sure about this?"

She caressed his stubble covered check, grateful she had decided to shave her legs after all. "That reminds me," she sat up and grabbed her bag. "I found something, might come in handy." She brandished the condom box at him as color rose is her checks.

"Saftey first huh?" he looked tired, so tired. "You tryin' to seduce me Greene?" He laughed low, and quiet.

In answer to his question she reached down to unbuckle his pants. She smiled when she felt how hard he was. This was all the encouragement he needed. He put a hand through her hair and brought her head down to his in a kiss that was equal parts lust and need. He moved from her mouth to her neck, He licked it and then began to suck, she groaned in pleasure, the sound nearly driving him out of his mind. He growled low and deep then picked her up keeping her close and together they sank to the floor, him on top. He traced kisses from her neck to her breast, he took her nipple into his mouth gently suckling one while fondling the other. She ran her hands over his back, she found a raised bit of skin, part the lattice work of scars covering his back, she ran her hand along the length of it and he froze. She immediately regretted her actions. "Daryl?"

He rolled off of her and lay on the floor next to her, his arm over his eyes. "Daryl?" She leaned over him and made him lower his arm so she could look him in the eye. "Daryl, look at me Daryl." She held his hand against her chest. "Look at me. You know I would never, never hurt you. Right? You gotta know that."

He looked at her, fighting his demons. "I know that Greene."

She leaned down to kiss him again, a quick, soft kiss, then laid down next to him pressed as close to his side as possible. "We can stop if you want. You don't owe me anything."

He turned on his side to look at her face. "I don't deserve someone like you. I ain't never done nuthin good in my life."

"We both know that ain't true. You're the best man I ever met Daryl Dixon. If not for you, I'd've been dead many times over. You could have left me, back at the prison, you could have just left. I know I ain't strong or, anything, but I'm trying not to be such a burden."

He kissed her to stop the flood of words. It was a gentle kiss, but strong too. "You ain't a burden Beth. I don't know what I'd do without you." He picked the condom up from here it had fallen and laid it purposefully on the coffee then grabbed her blanket from the couch. He laid back down next to her, covering them both. "Go to sleep Greene, we got a busy day tomorrow." He kissed the top of her head, wrapped his arms around her as she snuggled back into him.

For now, she was happy. She was with him. She was safe. As long as she was with him she would stay safe. He had become her world.


	3. Chapter 3

Daryl woke early as the sun's first rays filtered into the house he and Beth had shared that night. She was still in his arms, sound asleep. Her hair was a tangled mess and there was a bit of drool running down her check. He smirked at that. Sometime in the night she had kicked off the blanket they shared. He rose carefully, slidding his arm from underneath her, and pulling the blanket over her. She still wore the black nightie she'd found. A part of him thought she looked like a little girl playing dress up. He told that part of himself very firmly to shut the hell up and go away. Beth wasn't a girl anymore, if the hardening she had gone through recently wasn't proof of that, last night was.

He couldn't believe he had stopped her last night. If he was honest, he wanted her. More than he had ever wanted anyone or anything. He thought back to the women he'd been with. Whores, all of them. Some bought, some just using him, or being used to slack a mutual lust. Nothing more. He had had his first at 15, Merele thought it was funny to buy him a prostitute for his birthday. He'd fumbled his way through the experience so Merle would stop calling him a pussy only to go home and catch a beating from the old man. Still, at least Merle remembered his birthday.

Daryl went to the kitchen to see what was left. He found a few cans of peaches and a little brown sugar, and in a stroke of luck some instant oatmeal. He set to work making breakfast. They'd need to find a water source soon, but at least the stove was gas.

When he had the meal ready he went back to the living room to find Beth gone. His heart rose to his throat and started pounding against like a mad man trying to escape a well. He sat the food down on the coffee table and checked the door. Everything was still locked, she didn't go out, no one had come in. "Calm down idiot, don't be so paranoid."

Just then he saw her at the top of the stairs. She had changed into her normal clothes, slightly cleaner for the washing they had had, but still covered with stains. They did nothing to hide her charms though. He allowed himself to breath again as she descended the stairs, an easy smile springing to her lips when she saw him. All his breath came rushing out at once. It scared him how much she meant to him, and how quickly he developed these feelings, even if couldn't quite name those feelings yet. It's to be expected, he thought, just the two of us running around together, fighting for our lives.

She was at the bottom of the stairs now, and he realized he was staring at her. He coughed, and said, "breakfast is served," indicating the food on the table.

Her smile broadened, "You did all this? It smells great!"

He watched her as she made her way to the table and set down eagerly. She started portioning everything out when she realized he hadn't set down. "You gonna eat or stand there all day?"

He shook his head, how could he ever think of another woman? This one, Beth Greene, farmer's daughter from Nowhere, Georgia, was the only woman he would ever think about again. He had watched her mature since they first met on the farm. She had grown from a scared, self-absorbed little girl, to a woman who cared for children who weren't hers, who seemed to care for a stubborn, angry roughneck. He knew he had grown too, in similar ways. He knew in that moment, watching her lick the sugar off her fingers, that he would do whatever it took to keep his promises, the first to be the man he was now, not the one he was; the second, to never leave her. She as his, and if she'd have him, he would be hers.  
"You okay over there, Mr. Dixon?" She looked concerned. He pushed him self away from the wall he'd been leaning on and joined her. He accepted the proffered plate with remembered hunger. The oatmeal was a nice break from unseasoned squirrel.

They ate in companionable silence. It was one of his favorite things about her, she didn't babble on for n good reason. When he finished his food she reached to take his plate. As she stood, he grabbed one of her hands, not really even thinking about it, and pressed a quick kiss to the back of it. "Thank you."

He smiled when she blushed and stammered a reply.

Daryl didn't know anything about love and romance, but he swore to himself he'd learn fast. He wanted to make sure she knew he wasn't just chasin' some tail. He knew she wanted him too, but did she want him because there was no other choice, or did she care about him? He thought he knew the answer, but wanted to be sure. He'd find out. They'd just take things close 'til then. They had time.

He walked into the kitchen to watch her cleaning up the kitchen. He knew she would reject the idea of just leaving the mess. It may be the zombie apocalypse but there were still chores to do. Everyone had their jobs and Beth Greene took care of hers.

When it seemed she had finished he said, "Come on, Greene. Let's go huntin'."

They shouldered their bags and headed for the door. She stopped in the middle of the room and for a moment looked sad. He held out his hand, she took it and together they left their one night home.


	4. Chapter 4

Running 4

"Shit!" Daryl cursed as he sucked on his index finger.

"What? What's wrong?" Beth was at his side in an instant pulling his hand out of his mouth gently, looking at his hand.

He winced in pain as she squeezed the tip. "It's just a splinter. Hold still a minute." She poured a bit of water over his finger, then with unwavering hands pulled the offensive shard of wood from his finger.

He watched her as she went about the task, so methodical and meticulous. Then she put his finger to her lips and kissed it softly. In his mind Merle said, "aww did she kiss your owie and make it all better?" He yanked his hand out f hers. "Don't do that!" he growled at her, instantly sorry.

She didn't say anything, didn't even seem surprised, just put her bottle of water away and continued down the track they had been following.

Beth walked in front of Daryl not sure what to think. She knew he was sensitive about affection and wanted to seem so tough all the time. She had also seen under that gruff exterior and was hurt he still acted like this. Still, no one changes overnight.

She walked on, trying to put it out of her mind and only stopped when she realized she no longer heard his footsteps behind her. She turned and saw him in the middle of the track with his head slumped down.

"Daryl? You need a break?" She felt ridiculous asking him if he needed a break, then there was no one else to take care of him.

He mumbled something incoherent. She took a step toward him and stepped on a stick. The sound of the crunch made him look up. His face was a masterpiece of anguish. He wasn't crying, but his eyes were shining with moisture. "I'm sorry. Sorry I snapped at you...I just...I'm no good at this Greene."

"Good at what exactly?" she stepped closer to him.

"This, whatever this is. I don't know how to..." he struggled to find the words, but he was never good with words either. "I don't deserve you. You're young and beautiful and smart. I'm just some stupid, ol' redneck. You deserve better than I can give." He finished looking at the ground.

"You're right." He looked up, hurt, and she felt a little bad about what she was doing. "I deserve a man who is strong and reliable, yet gentle and sweet. A man who can take care of me and will let me take care of him. A man who sees a challenge and steps up to it, not runs away from it." Daryl continue to stand with his head hung low, not looking at her. "Course it wouldn't hurt if he was also the sexiest man I'd ever laid eyes on either." She smiled, trying to get through to him. When he didn't look at her and the silence had stretched too long Beth went to him

"I'm talking about you." He looked up at her and she put her hands on his face looking deep into his eyes. "Daryl Dixon, I don't know how many times I'll have to tell you this before you believe me, but you are a good man. The best. Just because you're my only choice, doesn't mean I wouldn't choose you if I had another choice. Line a hundred men up and I'll pick you every time. You may be a stubborn old redneck," he grunted, "but you're my stubborn old redneck."

"Yeah, but..."

She quieted him with a kiss. It started off a simple kiss of comfort but soon they were locked in a passionate embrace. His arms rose slowly to her waist, pulling her in as close to him as possible. She had her hands in his hair urging his mouth ever closer, like she couldn't get enough of him. It was a heady emotion. He let his crossbow fall slowly to the ground as he wrapped his arms around her, pulling her. They couldn't be close enough to each other.

Then it happened, from nowhere a group of walkers stumbled into them. There were four at least. Daryl dropped his arms from her and practically threw her behind him. "Beth, run!" He retrieved his fallen weapon and shot one walker through the eye while she was still trying to figure out what was happening. "Run dammit girl." he screamed at her as he sent a crossbow bolt through the decayed skull of another walker.

"No, I'm not leaving you." Beth pulled the knife he had given her and drove it up through the chin of the third walker. She spun around to see another behind her. He ran to her, mouth agape, ready for the feast. She backed against a tree, knife held in front of her and screamed in fright, as she struggled to push him off of her.

"Beth," he was there in the space of a breath, his knife going through the back of the walker's head, spraying Beth with blood and gore. Daryl pulled out his knife and let the walker dropped. "You okay? You ain't bit?"

Beth shook her head, trying to breath. Her eyes widened when she saw the last walker coming up behind Daryl. He saw her reaction and turned weapon out. They stabbed the walker at the same time, his knife plunged into the chest, hers went through the head. Daryl kicked the walker a few times, for good measure and spat on the ground nearby. They looked around, making sure all the walkers were down this time, then without a word, he grabbed her hand and they were off again.


	5. Chapter 5

Mud fight

"I think it's letting up some now, c'mon. Rise and shine sleepy head."Daryl shook Beth's shoulder lightly to wake her. For the past several hours they had sheltered in the roots of a large oak, with a tarp hung out in a good imitation of a tent, and noise alarms strung out along the perimeter. Outside their small sanctuary, the rain poured down, thunder and lightening filled the autumn sky and Beth Greene slept in his arms. It was foolish, he knew, to hold her like this, when any moment a walker, confused by the thunder, could just wander right up to them. Still, they had their alarms set, and he wanted her right where she was.

"Hmm?" she sat up sleepily, trying to be discreet as she wiped the drool from her chin. He hide his smile. He thought in wonder at how much he caught himself doing that lately, smiling. Everyone he knew was probably walker food, but he was smiling like an idiot at this girl who trusted him s fully.

"C'mon. Let's try to find some better shelter before the rain starts up again." He started pulling down the tarp and folding it up, while she stretched her sore tired muscles. He tied the tarp onto his bag and handed her a bottle of fresh rain water, and started down the trail- if you could call it a trail.

He heard her faltering steps crunching through the leaves behind him. She wasn't really awake yet.

"I can fix that," he thought to himself. He crouched to the ground and scooped up a handful of red mud. Before he could second guess himself or think too much about it, he turned and flung the mud at her. He hit her right in the chest with a soft plop.

She just stopped shocked. She looked at the wet stain on her chest, then looked at him. She stared so long he began to think he had made a huge mistake. She walked slowly, menacingly, toward him. She scooped the mud off her shirt, and her eyes never leaving his, she caressed his check lightly as she rubbed the mud into his stubble. They stared at each other a long moment, then he said "Oh, it's on now Greene." he bent down and scoped up more mud and she ran.

He threw the missile and just missed, she returned fire and landed a shot on his leg. Then they were laughing and running, and throwing mud each landing a few good ones. They were like a couple of carefree kids. The death that surrounded them on a daily basis, forgotten entirely. In a glorious effort he caught up to her, wrapped his arms around her and rubbed two handfuls of mud down the front of her shirt.

Beth struggled against him and they fell to the ground laughing and wrestling, each trying to gain the upper-hand. They rolled, one over the other until finally Daryl surrendered and let her land on top of him. She straddled him as he lay in the mud, each of them breathing heavily from their hard fought battle. He took a moment to appreciate the way her breast heaved up and down in effort to regain her breath. She looked happy. Her eyes were bright with mirth, her mud-splattered face stretched in the biggest smile he'd ever seen. He was surprised at how much he wanted her and hoped she wouldn't feel the hardness growing in his pants.

She adjusted slightly on top of him and he knew he was found out when she grew suddenly serious. She looked down at the man beneath her as her eyes widened. He saw the same desire there, she wanted him too. It was too much. He ran his hands up to her waist and rolled her to the ground coming up on top of her. He captured her mouth in a merciless, passionate kiss as he pinned her hands above her head. She turned her head to the side as she gasped for air. He turned his attention to her neck. It was so slender and pale. He kissed and nibbled his way around her neck to her ear, tasting the sweet, salty flavor of her flesh and the grit of the mud. He found her ear and took it in to his mouth making her moan and squirm beneath him.

A peal of thunder overhead brought them both roughly back to their senses. He rolled off of her breathing even more heavily now as he tried to reign in his lust. He stood and held a hand down to her, hauling her up. They collected their belongings and continued down the path, quicker than before. Those storm clouds were looking ready to burst.

…...

Daryl guessed it was about midday when they came to a small farm house- with the sun hidden behind the clouds, it was hard to tell. It was a single story house with a high wrap around porch. There was a large, stereotypically red barn behind the house and a fence closed in the property. Daryl scanned the area. He saw no signs of anyone living or dead. "Looks safe enough. C'mon let's check it out."

Beth was still feeling reckless, "race ya!" and with no further notice she started out of the trees running headlong for the house. The clouds chose that moment to open up. In mere seconds she and Daryl were both soaked head to toe, but at least the mud was washing away.

"Damn fool girl, " Daryl cursed but ran after her, a smile on his face. He passed her soon enough and looked back at her with a mocking grin, "C'mon girl, move those skinny legs."

She picked up her pace and they reached the fence together. He opened it and they ran through to the porch. She made it to the door first. "I win!" She smiled before knocking on the door. They listened carefully but heard no sound within. Beth tried the door as Daryl raised his crossbow. It was unlocked and opened easily. Daryl went in first, looking carefully around, inspecting every corner. The room was clear; he motioned her in.

It didn't take long to clear the house. There was one walker locked in the master bathroom, but a quick bolt to the head took care of it. Daryl closed the door and went on.

While Daryl set up their make shift alarms and defenses, Beth peeled her wet clothes off and lay them over a chair. She checked her bag for something dry. Her new black nightie was fine, but she decided to pull on her old t-shirt.

That done she set to making the house their temporary home. She found a stack of wood next to the fireplace and soon coaxed a decent flame from it. She scoured the bedrooms for blankets and pillows and piled them with the sofa cushions to make a comfortable nest in front of the fire. Finally she went to the kitchen to see if there was anything left. The pantry was fairly well stocked. She wiped the dust from a couple cans of spaghettios as she opened them and poured them into a pan she found. She put the pan on the hearth with some plates and forks, then returned to the kitchen.

A few more minutes of rummaging produced candles of various sizes. She put these around the room and was just lighting the last of them when Daryl finally came in. He was dripping and shivering. "Get those clothes off right now," she ordered.

"Yes m'am." he replied jokingly as he pulled off his boots.

She walked down the hall as he continued removing his clothes and returned with a few towels.  
"Here take these." She handed them to him then walked back to the fireplace to check on dinner.

He stripped down and wrapped one towel around his waist and another he slung over his head. He draped his clothes with hers before joining her.

"Huh, cozy," he said as he slid down on one of the cushions.

She smiled as she handed him a plate of canned pasta and a bottle of water.

"Mmm s'gettios, my favorite," he said as he set to eating. She fixed her own plate and they ate in silence.

The fire was dying so Beth got up to throw on another log and stoke the flame back up again. When she turned around Daryl was staring at her, through her. Outside the rain pounded against the window, she hoped it hid the sound of her pounding heart.

"Everything okay?" she asked, suddenly self-conscious.

He responded with a noise somewhere between a groan and a word and held out his hand. She took it and let him pull her across the room to stand before him. "I like this t-shirt Greene. It suits you," he tugged the hem of the old rag. He ran his hand down the length of her long legs, slow and gentle, then back up again to end on her lower back and pulled her in close. He leaned forward and put his head on her stomach, just holding her. She shivered and ran her fingers through his hair and around his neck returning his embrace. She pushed his still damp hair out of his eyes and let her hands trail as far as she could reach, along his shoulders, around the base of his neck, over the puckered skin of the uppermost scars.

It was his turn to shiver. Remembering his reaction the other night she started to apologize but he stopped her. "They're from my old man. He'd get tired of beating on my mom so he'd take after me. Did the same to my brother."

Beth didn't know what to say except, "I, I'm so sorry."

He raised his head from her stomach and looked up at her, "It ain't your fault." He picked up one of her hands and kissed her scarred wrist lightly. "We all got scars we gotta live with." She closed her eyes as goosebumps spread over her.

He pulled her down to kneel in front of him, and kissed her softly on her slightly parted mouth. He sucked at her bottom lip coaxing her into the kiss. He wrapped his arms tightly around her waist pulling her closer which brought her chest to his mouth. He ran his hand up the shirt to caress her small breast, bringing the nipple to attention. He suckled at it through the shirt making her moan in his ear as she nibbled at it. Her hands were on his back again, this time he didn't care. He had told her, he'd never told anyone about them before. No one except his brother had even seen them before. In a way telling someone freed him. That's what she was doing. She was freeing him from the past. Everyday he spent with her he took one more step away from the weak, miserable asshole he had been and one step closer the kind of man she could be proud of.

That thought sobered him. Would that kind of man be doing what he was doing? Would that kind of man take advantage of a young girl? She must have noticed his change of pace. "Daryl, what's wrong?"

"This is. This is wrong."

She pulled back from him.

"What do you mean? Do I need to tell you again?" she seemed upset and he didn't blame her, he was sending her mixed messages. "Daryl, I want this. I'm not just some stupid college bitch looking to get laid." He looked ashamed at that, remembering his earlier harsh words- he really was an ass when he drank. She stood up and made herself busy collecting the dishes from dinner.

"Great Dixon, now you've hurt her" he cursed himself. He got up, keeping his towel secure, and followed her to the kitchen. He sat in a chair at the table. "What do you want from me Greene?"

She didn't answer immediately just took a deep breath. She set the plates in the sink and turned on him, "What do you want from me Daryl?" She looked at him searchingly.

"I'm just tryin' to take care of you. Do the right thing by you."

"I can take care of myself Daryl. I don't need a babysitter."

"I don't want to babysit you, I just, I..." he couldn't find the words to tell her just what he wanted. He wanted to hold her close and tell her how much he cared about her, how much he needed her. He wanted to rip that shirt from her fragile, graceful body and trace every curve and plain with his hands, his mouth. He wanted to take her into the other room and make her toes curl and her back arch in ecstasy. More than anything he wanted to make her feel safe and loved.

He couldn't say any of this. He didn't know how. Instead he raked his hand through his hair and pounded his fist on the table in frustration. "Dammit Beth. I'm just tryin' to do what's right for you."

She didn't quell at his evident frustration. She wanted to push him, wanted him to get it out. Too bad there was nothing to drink in the house- probably for the best.

"Why don't you let me worry about what's best for me?" she said into the growing silence. She walked over to him, took his hand and pulled him from the chair. He followed her up easily enough, she began to pull him back toward the candle-lit nest she had created for them. He stopped her when they reached the pillows.

"Are you sure you want this, want me?"

Why did he doubt her so much, doubt himself? She didn't know all the demons he had to face down, but it was time for those demons to get out of her way. Before she could get too nervous, she let go of his hand, reached for the bottom of her shirt and pulled it over her head. She stood before him completely nude, the light from the fire and candles making her skin glow. She reached out for him. "You're over dressed Mr. Dixon." She put her hands on his waist and in one quick motion dropped the towel from his body.

Daryl marveled at her. Where had this boldness come from? Maybe she wasn't the delicate little girl he thought. "I'm startin' to think, you're taking advantage of me." he laughed lightly.

She turned, and pulled him along with her as she made her way to the center of the cushions. She pulled him down with her and kissed him soundly. She teased him with her tongue and bit his bottom lip, eliciting a deep guttural moan from his throat. "Beth" The sound of her name on his lips excited her more than she thought possible. She ran her hands up his torso as he descended on her breast. This time there was no cloth to hide them. He took first one then the other in his mouth, licking and teasing the nipples. She moaned, louder this time. She wrapped her legs around his waist, trying to have as much skin to skin contact as possible. "Whoa, slow down now." He pushed her legs away and moved down , running his hands along her inner thigh. Starting at her knee, he traced kisses down to the center of her legs. She ran her nails along his back and gasped in surprise when he began to lick and suck at her. He looked up at her, from his position. "This okay?"He didn't want to overstep his boundaries. She couldn't speak, but nodded, so he went back to his task. He ran his tongue the full length of her ending at the clitoris. He circled and bit, he sucked and licked until she shuddered and her knees closed around his head. He raised his head slightly and kissed her belly then stood and walked away.

She rode out the waves of pleasure that were so new to her, as she watched him cross the room to his pants. "You're not getting dressed are you?" she asked with a slight pout.

"Don't worry darlin', just needed to get somethin'." He brandished a familiar looking package at her. It was one of the condoms she had found in the last house. They smiled at each other as he came back over. He was on her again, his hard body covering her small frame. He knelt for a moment as he pulled the condom over himself then he leaned over her again, hands to either side of her face. "Ready?" he asked. He thought he saw a moment of nervousness pass over her face, but she bit her bottom lip and nodded. He kissed her gently as he slowly lined himself up to her. He thrust into her and paused when she gasped, waiting for her to grow accustomed to his presence in her body. She nodded again, and he took up a slow rhythm, in and out, in and out. Each time he thrust a little harder and a little faster. Her back was arching under him now, her hips were rising to meet his.

His arms were growing tired from holding up his weight so he rolled over and pulled her on top of him. She straddled him and he cupped her arse to help her find her spot; then it was her turn to set the pace. She started slowly, uncertainly, but the more comfortable she got the more intent she was. She began to move on him, her strong young muscles clenching around him, threatening to make him explode at any time. She picked up sped as he reached up one hand to caress a breast. He squeezed lightly, quickening her pace more. She was ridding him now, like she meant it, he could hold back no longer and with a loud moan he finished. He put his hands to her waist moving her to slow then stop. She moved off of him and lay at his side, her head on his shoulder and one hand tracing small circles in his chest hair.

He wrapped his arm around her possessively, protectively. She kissed his check and whispered in his ear, "thank you."

"Yes m'am. Always glad to help." he smiled at her.

He pulled the blanket up over them and as the fire died to embers and the rain slowed to a drizzle, they fell asleep in each others' arms.


	6. Chapter 6

He'd woken that morning to find her still curled up next to him, so trustingly. He slid his arm out from under her, moving the blankets and saw something that made bile rise in his throat. He wasn't an idiot, he knew what the small bit of blood meant. He had guessed, but now he knew; she had been a virgin. He looked at her lying there next to him, so small and serene. She was so young and innocent. He had ruined her. What kind of man does that, let's his body run him like that? He imagined he could see Merle's leering smile as he called his little brother a pedophile. He could see the disappointment in Herschel's eyes as he sadly shook his head and lead Beth away, she was crying.

He shook his head, trying to dislodge the unwanted images. He covered her up and rose slowly to dress as quietly as possible. He slung his crossbow over his shoulder and opened the door. The click of the door jam woke her. "Where you going?"

He paused, his hand on the knob, considering just walking out like he hadn't heard her, but she deserved better. He turned to face her slowly. She was beautiful. She'd risen slightly, resting on one elbow, the blanket falling down to reveal two porcelain shoulders and one perfect breast. He wanted to go to her, to repeat what he'd done last night, he closed his eyes tight. "Goin' huntin'," he said roughly.

She smiled at him, still asleep, "M'kay. Don't be gone long." She lay back in the cushions and wiggled into the blankets as he closed the door firmly behind him.

Daryl still couldn't really believe what had happened last night. He couldn't help but feel like a dirty old man taking advantage of a younger girl. Sure she said she wanted it, wanted him, but that couldn't be right. No one wanted him. There was no way Herschel wanted him for his baby girl. How could any of this possibly be right? He tried to justify it all, tell himself it was her idea, she started it and he just followed her lead. He should have known better. He should have stopped her. Even as he thought it though, he knew he could never have denied her.

She had gotten under his defenses somehow. All his life he had built walls, kept people out. She had found a break in those walls and one by one was tearing them down. He was afraid of what they would discover behind those walls, afraid of how she would react when she discovered it. She would run from him, he knew it. He wished he could run from himself.

He circled the house again, always keeping it in view, never straying far from her. The woods out back of the farm house were quiet. No sign of any people alive or dead, and no sign of an animal either. He didn't want to go back to her empty-handed, a failure, so he circled again, slightly further out. Half way back up the route he lucked upon a bird nest with three bright blue eggs inside. They were still warm- they were fresh. He smiled trying to remember the last time he'd had a fried egg and took his bounty back to the house.

He stopped short of the front door and listened. He could hear Beth moving around inside, singing an old Johnny Cash song. She sounded happy. He couldn't think why.  
…...

Beth stared at the closed door after he left this morning. He seemed upset, could she have done something wrong last night? It was her first time, she didn't really understand everything, but he had seemed to enjoy himself. No, it couldn't have been that. She knew he wanted it, wanted her, she had felt the truth of his desire for her several times in the last few days. Maybe it was the age thing? She still didn't really know how old he was, but she didn't care either. Well, whatever his problem was he'd just have to get over it, she decided, she wasn't going anywhere and she wasn't going to let him go either.

She dressed quickly, there was a chill in the air, and built up the fire. She wanted to be ready to cook whatever he brought back. She fixed up their nest, rearranging the cushions to make it a more comfortable place to eat. Sure, they could use the table, but she liked it down here.

She thought back to last night and felt her checks blush as she remembered her audacity and his shyness. How could someone so strong be so insecure?

She went out to the yard to get some of the rainwater collected in the barrels Daryl had set out last night. She took it back to the kitchen and scrubbed up the dishes she didn't finish last night, singing a song as she worked. Singing made her feel less alone.

When she heard the door open, she turned to see him standing, just staring at her like he couldn't believe she was real. He put the crossbow on the table

Daryl wasn't sure what to do. What did she expect of him? She was smiling at him and all he could think was she deserved better. He knew he was staring, couldn't help it, things like this didn't come easy to him. "Mornin'," he finally barked out as he lowered his eyes to the floor.

She turned back to the sink, feeling awkward now herself. She wasn't quiet sure how to handle his mood swings without hurting him or making him shut down. She held the sides of the sink and made herself ask, as nonchalantly as she could, "find anything?"

"Eggs," he grunted. Eggs? She hadn't had eggs since the farm. Her excitement got the better of her, she turned and walked to him. She felt like a kid in a candy store when he unwrapped the bundle in his bandana. Three beautiful eggs. Not large, but better than nothing. She took them from him gingerly, "How do you like'em?"

Her excitement over something so small brought a crocked smile to his lips,"don't matter."

"C'mon Daryl, everyone's got a way they like their eggs," she smiled up at him.

He shrugged, still not looking at her. "Fried I guess."

"Fired it is." She stood on her tip toes to kiss his check. "Thank you."

That's what she said last night, after. Thank you. His checks flushed as he thought back to last night. He tried to tell himself to stop being a pussy; she hadn't shown the least sign of regret. In fact, she seemed happy. Why couldn't he be?

He walked quietly over to the nest, she'd rearranged and sank down as she set to work cooking up the eggs over the fire. They were done soon enough and she brought two plates over, handing him the one with two eggs and sat down next to him, near but not touching. Without knowing exactly why he was grateful she seemed to sense his need for space and quiet. They ate without a word. Then she set to cleaning up.

He leaned back against the couch listening to her soft voice coming from the kitchen. She was humming now. It was sweet. For the first time, in a long time, maybe ever, he felt at home. It was a ridiculous notion he knew, in a strange house, in the middle of no where, but that didn't make it any less true.

He groaned as he flexed his shoulders. The past several nights sleeping on the ground, on rocks, and hard floors had left there toll, not to mention the stress of his confusing feelings for Beth. He's muscles were knotted up tight.

Beth heard his groan and went over to check on him. She watched him rubbing on his shoulders, "here, let me," she offered, slipping on to the couch behind him. "Take off your shirt."

"It's fine. Don't worry 'bout it," he said quietly, going tense on her again.

"It's not fine. I need you at your best, besides, Maggie always said I was good at rubbin' out knots." She looked at the back of his stubborn head. "Now, Daryl Dixon, you gonna take off your shirt, or am I gonna have to do it for you?" She started down the hall, "think I saw some chamomile in the bathroom. That shirt best be off when I get back, Mr. Dixon."

"'A'ight woman, don't be so damn bossy." he leaned up a bit and pulled the shirt and vest over his head.

He never felt so vulnerable as he did sitting there, his secrets exposed he drew his knees up, wrapped his arms around them and put his head down. The wait was interminable, "maybe she got smart an' jumped out the bathroom window." he thought to himself. He could hear drawers and cabinets opening and closing down the hall though. He waited, breathing in and out, trying to keep himself from grabbing his shirt and running himself. It was time to stop running. He wanted to kill something and he had just about decided too when he heard her some back.

"Got it!" she said. "It'll be good for your muscles, I think." she walked over to him and knelt down. Trying her best to not gasp at the patchwork of scars on his back.. He was so bunched up, he looked ready to bolt if she touched him again. She hated seeing him like that. There were more scars there that she couldn't see. "Daryl?" she asked softly, "you okay?"

"Mmm," was all he could muster.

She poured some of the chamomile lotion on her hands and reached tentatively out to him. He twitched bit, but didn't pull away, didn't run. She put both hands on his shoulders and began working her hands into them. "This okay?"

"Mmm."

Her hands started to move lower, rubbing over the top most scar. He sucked in his breath. "Tell me?" she said.

"Can't," he whispered.

"Come on Daryl. Maybe if you talk about it, it'll help put it away. Sometimes to heal a wound you gotta open it up again." She kept her hands moving all the while, surprisingly strong she worked at his kinks.  
"If you don't, they fester. If you don't he wins."

Daryl grunted. He wanted to tell her. He had opened up so much, if he could trust anyone with his pain it was her.

"Tell me," she asked again, softly, as she kissed the scar that wrapped so close to his shoulder.

"That one," he started so quietly she barely heard, "that's from the time he caught me dumping all his moonshine out. Thought maybe if he didn't have his drink he wouldn't be so angry." She traced the angry, raised skin with a soft finger. "See, I'm just like him. He was a dick when he was angry too."

"You ain't nothin' like that bastard Daryl Dixon.' She said matter-of-factually. His mouth twitched at hearing her call his father a bastard.

One by one they went, 'til all the stories were told, all the scars opened up. After the first few, it got a little easier, the time he stole his father's ciggies, then he broke a window while playing ball, and the worst of them, the oldest, from when he tried to stand up for his mother. Daryl's voice broke when he told Beth how his mother had just laughed at his failed attempt to help her. She listened in silence, not trusting her voice to keep the anger and sadness in check.

One by one, Beth kissed the old hurts away, rubbing her hands along his back, from shoulders to waist, until she could feel the tension leaving his body as he relaxed in her hands. When her hands began to stiffen with her efforts she wrapped her arms around his neck and clung to his back for just a moment. "I will never, let anyone hurt you again."

He wanted to laugh at her. How could a slip of a girl like her possibly protect him? He didn't though. There was resolve and strength in her promise and somehow he believed her words. He put his hands on her arms and let himself relax fully in protection she offered and marveled again at how this girl had broken through to him so completely.


	7. Chapter 7

Daryl walked up the three steps to the porch, two squirrels hanging from his belt. Tonight it was his turn to cook dinner. Squirrel stew wasn't exactly fine dinning, but he'd also managed to find some mushrooms and a few wild onions to sweeten the pot.

He made it to the door before he realized something was wrong. Beth wasn't singing. Beth always sang when he was out of the house. They'd been in the house a few days now, and it was always the same. He'd leave to find food, collect water, or just to get some air; and no matter how long he was gone, he'd come home to her singing.

He raised the crossbow and listened intently. He heard footsteps, to heavy to be hers. His stomach dropped, when he heard a deep male voice. "Stay calm Dixon, stay calm. Won't do her no good, you go gettin' riled up." He crept to the window and peeked through. A man was walking from the hall to the living-room, cursing and holding his check. His hand came away bloody, "damn bitch" he muttered.

That was more than he could handle, Daryl stood, ready to bust through the door, when he heard the familiar click of a shot gun being cocked behind him. He turned to see another man, youngish, maybe in his twenties; dank, greasy hair feel around his shoulders and his clothes hung loose on his slight frame. He had a shotgun inches from Daryl's head. "Easy now friend, lower that bow real easy like."

Daryl spat, "Ain't your damn friend," but he lowered the bow.

"Hey jack, comin' in. Got a friend," he emphasized the last word. "Go on now, easy like." He motioned Daryl inside.

Jack raised a firearm of his own when the two men walked in. "Well, well, now. Lookie what the cat done drug in. You a pretty one, you are, bit dirty, but that's okay. I like it dirty."

Daryl looked at the men in utter disgust. "Where is she?"

"Who? Oh your little blonde friend. Yeah, I got real acquainted with her. She's a bit feistier than I like though, gave me some fight," he raised his hand to his bloody face.

Daryl balled his hands in fist, "I'm'a stomp yer ass." He took a step toward Jack, but the other rammed the shotgun into his ribs.

"Now, now friend stay calm. We left some for you. Not greedy men after all. It's share and share alike now." Jack laughed. "Ain't that right Fred."

Fred cackled, the sound was completely deranged, it was more than Daryl could stand. "Beth? Beth answer me girl," he barked out but the only answer was the barrel of a gun twisted further into his ribs.

"Whad'ya do to her you sick fucks?"

"Don't fret none. Sure we ain't did nothin' you ain't done yourself." Jack's leer was I. As fast as he could Daryl grabbed the shotgun Fred had at his ribs and pulled hard.

Fred went flying across the room as Jack fired. Jack's bullet grazed Daryl's arm sending a small spray of blood over the carpet. Daryl spun the shot gun toward the other men. "Drop it," he snarled at Jack.

"Shoot the bastard" Fred yelled as he pulled a knife.

"Well, friend, I thought we could play nice, share out toys, guess I was wrong." Jack cocked his revolver. Daryl was faster, he pulled the trigger and sent a spray of shrapnel in Jack's face. Blood painted the wall behind him.

Fred screamed but before he could make more than one step in Daryl's direction, the shotgun was cocked and Fred suddenly had a whole where his stomach had been. Daryl buried his knife in the dead man's head.

"Beth? Beth" Daryl yelled as he ran down the hall. He flung open the bedroom door, shotgun raised. A quick sweep of the room showed only one person in the room. Daryl lowered the gun as he ran to Beth's side. She had a large angry knot on her head, a few drops of blood on her lower lip. There was more blood under the nails of her right hand. "That's my girl," he thought. Little Bethy Greene wasn't as weak as those losers thought. He held one slight, scarred wrist in his hand, there as a steady beat.

He didn't see any other signs of injury, Her shirt was ripped open, but thank God her pants were still on."Bastard wudn't nothin but talk." He wanted to kill the bastards all over again, but he had her to think of. He covered her with the blanket then went out to the rain barrels to get some fresh water.

He hurried as fast as he could, not wanting to leave her alone longer than strictly necessary. He filled a pitcher to the brim and carried it back to the house, grabbing some rags from the kitchen.

Back in the room, he rummaged through the drawers and found a shirt that looked too big, but it would have to do. He put it on the bed next to her and slowly, started to wash her. He started with her chest, wiping away dirty hand prints. With a clean rag, he moped the blood from her lip. When he touched the rag to the bump growing on her head she finally stirred.

Her eyes blinked then opened wide in terror. She slapped his hands from her and scooted up on the bed as far as she could, he reached out to comfort her but she didn't recognize him in her terror. She wrapped her arms around her knees and tucked her head down. It was a defensive position he knew well, one he'd assumed too many times to count. He wanted to wrap her in his arms, wanted to hold her and make all the bad thoughts disappear. He knew it would be a mistake though.

"Beth? Beth darlin' look at me."

She didn't move, just whimpered.

"Beth it's me. Those men are gone. It's me darlin', Beth, look at me."

She sniffled but rose her head up. "Daryl?" she asked almost in disbelief. "Daryl, I...they just came in, I tried, but he...and I" her words made no sense and she was crying.

"Shh, it's okay now. I'm here now. You're safe." He sat on the side of the bed, agitated, not quite sure what to do or say. "Those men ain't ever gonna touch no one again."

"Daryl, I was so scared," She flung herself at him and he caught her in a strong embrace. She cried into his shoulder as he patted her hair and held her tight. He kicked himself for letting his guard down so much that he let something like this happen to her. He should have been more diligent, should have kept a closer eye on her. He has let the relative safety of the farm house lull him into complacency. Idiot. No where was safe, if he hadn't learned that by now he was a bigger fool than those dumb-asses in the front room who thought they could come in and take what was his. "I'm so sorry, Beth. I'm so sorry."

He pushed her away enough to pull the shirt he'd scavenged over her head. "There, it's a bit big, but it'll have to do."

Beth looked down at the plain cotton t-shirt he'd provided. She thought it was the nicest shirt she'd ever worn and she wanted to smile, but she just couldn't yet. She knew she could trust Daryl, more than anyone, but after what had just happened to her, there were no smile.

"We gotta go, can't stay here. Not now."

Beth nodded, he was right. Together they went to the front room to gather their meager supplies. Beth stopped short when she saw the blood spreading over the nest she'd made for her and Daryl. Nothing ever stayed pure here. She grabbed her bag and followed Daryl out the door. Quietly, guards high, they ran.


	8. Chapter 8

Daryl was sitting in a plush armchair, his clothes hung on a nearby tree. The moon and stars were watching, waiting. Not wanting to disappoint, Beth walked toward him, her clothes seeming to melt from her body as she approached. She lowered her slim form slowly on to Daryl's lap. Her pale, creamy flesh, glistened in the silver moonlight. His eyes were locked on hers, intense, expectant, blue reflecting blue. He put his hands on her waist helping her position herself over him, then slowly left a trail of goose bumps up her back where his hands tangled in her hair pulling it loose. Starlight bounced off her long golden hair as it spilled in waves over her bare shoulders. He pulled her head to his; their foreheads rested together, like that day at the pond. He wasn't scared or tense this time though, there was nothing between them anymore, no reason to hide. Slowly she began rocking back and forth in his lap, her hands braced on the back of the old arm chair. Up and down, back and forth slow and steady. As the feelings running through her body began to intensify, she tried to pull away, to arch her back, he held her firm, forcing her to keep eye contact as together they reached their climax. Matching moans echoed from their throats as her body slumped against his and she kissed him passionately, tears of joy running down her checks. He kissed the tears away and held her close, whispering her name before each kiss.

Then the whispers grew louder, 'til he was yelling her name. Screaming it at a car that was barreling away from him. She could feel more tears fall down her checks at the sound of loss in his voice. She couldn't go to him and tell him she was okay, that she was with him and he'd be okay. She would never leave him, she'd promised. Someone was making her break that promise though. Someone had thrown her into a car and they were taking her away from him. She began to yell back to him, then a blow to the head and she fell to the floor of the car.

Beth woke up. There was nothing around but darkness. No sound, no light, no Daryl.

She sat up quietly. The floor beneath her was cold, metal she thought, the wall behind her too. Her back was stiff from having laid n it for a long time. The air was still, oppressively still. She knew she must be in a small space, a cell of some sort maybe? Her heart began to beat erratically loud. "Calm down, Beth. Calm down." She felt for the knife at her waist, it was gone. She had nothing but her clothes, at least she wasn't naked.

She listened carefully to her surroundings, there was a small whimpering sound coming from nearby, so she wasn't alone then. "Hello? Hello, is someone there?" she whispered. The whimpering stopped immediately. "I'm Beth. Are you okay? Do you know where we are?"

Beth rose slowly, pushing against the wall for support. A jolt of pain shot through her leg reminding her of her injured ankle, it echoed in her heart when she remembered Daryl. "Hello? I'm not going to hurt you. Please. Are you there?"

An answer, almost imperceptible, finally came. "Sarah, I'm Sarah, and we at Terminus."

"What's Terminus?" Beth began to move slowly to where she could hear Sarah.

"A lie, that what it is, a damn lie. They say, come, we keep you safe, so we come. We come an' they lock us in here."

"Us, there's more of you?" Beth was close now. She sank to the ground again.

"Uh-uh, not no more. Now just me. Them others is gone now, jus' me now, all alone, jus' me..." Sarah trailed off and began whimpering again.

"Hush now, I'm here. You ain't alone no more. I got someone coming for me he'll get you out too!" Beth willed herself to believe her own words.

"No ma'am, ain't nobody comin'. Jus' me, all alone..."

Sarah continued to whimper and babble and Beth tried not to listen. The woman was wrong. Of course Daryl was coming. He promised he would never leave her. Daryl was coming and he would find her. In the meantime, she would stay strong and be smart, like he taught her. She would wait.

He promised her.

Suddenly there was a loud sound of metal scrapping laboriously across metal and blinding light filled the cell the women were in. A man stood in front of the sun, Beth couldn't see him. The sun was burning her eyes and he was nothing but a shadow. "Get on in there," he yelled as he shoved another body in. "Mmmmm-mm you all look good enough to eat." He chuckled like he had made a joke then the door was slammed and dark settled around Beth again.

She saw spots before her eyes as they readjusted to the unfathomable blackness. The new person was crying now. Beth scooted back away from the others and pushed as far into the corner of the cell as she could and covered her ears.

She wasn't here, in the dark, surrounded by weeping captives, she was safe, wrapped in Daryl's arms. He was coming. He promised.

…...

Beth woke again, she didn't even realize she was asleep, but there was nothing else to do. She had no idea how long she'd been in the dark cell she had bean to think it was an old train car. But Sarah was gone now, she and the other woman were the only two there now. Beth hadn't talked to her, couldn't bear to. The woman didn't matter, none of this mattered. Daryl was coming for her.

A part of her wondered how true that was. She may not know exactly how long she'd been locked up, but she had had food a water thrown at her at least five times. Each time the sun was brilliant and blinding. She assumed the food and water came at the same time, is so, five days had passed since she saw Daryl. Not to mention however long she'd been in the car. Daryl was a great tracker, the best, but how could he hope to keep up with a car. It was time for her to grow up and accept that he wasn't coming, couldn't if he wanted. "But he promised me," she whispered to the darkness around her.

She closed her eyes and tried to remember his face. The deep blue eyes, slightly wrinkled at the corners. The amazing, stubble covered smile she worked so hard to earn. The shaggy, greasy hair hanging over half his face. She'd have to give him a haircut when he found her.

She remembered the way he'd cared for her, when they left their house. "it was never your house idiot," she thought. But she pushed that part of her away and remembered him. After they left, they avoided buildings for a few days, preferring to stay in small camps in the woods. During the day, they were quiet. He led and she followed. For the first few days they didn't talk. At night, when they finally stopped, she would set up the fire and he would set up defenses and find dinner. Still no one spoke. It was like they had reverted to what they were just after the prison, before they'd grown so close. She could tell he was just giving her the space she needed after what had been done to her, what had almost been done to her, but part of her wanted nothing more than for him to hold her. She needed to talk about it, needed to get it off her chest, but how could she talk to him like that? She needed Maggie. She needed Carol. She needed her mother. Unbidden tears began to pour down as she sobbed at the thought of her mother.

And he was there. Instantly, like he heard the torture cry of her heart, he was there wrapped around her. She turned her face into his chest and let it all out, soaking his t-shirt. She could tell he didn't know what to say, but she heard him saying something, low and quiet barely audible over her sobs. She tried to calm down, just to hear him and she noticed he wasn't talking. Daryl Dixon was singing. As she quieted she began to recognize the tune.

"...rock me mama like a wagon wheel, rock me mama anyway you fell, hey, mama rock me."

His voice was low and soft. It was harsh and gravelly and he couldn't carry a tune worth a damn, but it was the sweetest sound she had ever heard.

She held on to his vest, her tears drying up so she could hear him and he held her and continued to sing. She was afraid to move and end the moment so she stayed still and listened.

Now in the darkness, she raised her knees, wrapping her arms around them and sang the song to herself.

"...Rock me mama like the wind and the rain, rock me mama like a south bound train, hey, mama rock me."


	9. Chapter 9

Daryl crouched in the corner, arms up over his head trying to protect his already bleeding face. He tried to suppress a sob, but just couldn't keep it in any longer.

"You cryin' now boy?" A kick to the stomach sent Daryl up in the air and landed him on his ass. "Little pussy shit." Daryl's father spat at the cringing boy."That's what you get. Spillin' out good shine like that. It's a goddamned waste, is what it is."

"You're the waste." Daryl mumbled as he rose slowly to his feet, arm now wrapped around his ribs, the other wiping at his gushing nose. He couldn't keep the remark in anymore than the earlier sob. He instantly regretted it. The fist his father punched into his face sent him reeling back to the floor and blood splattering across the wall. He'd probably catch it from his mom later for that, like it was his fault his father was a bastard .

"You sassin' me now boy?" Dixon unbuckled his belt and pulled it off in one swift, practiced movement. "Thought you'd've learned by now not to sass me boy." With that the blows began to fall, erratic and without aim, but full force. A Dixon never pulls his blows. The first landed on the back of Daryl's neck knocking him on his belly, the rest fell all over his back from shoulders all the way to upper thighs. Through the crack of the belt and the string of curses that accompanied them, Daryl could hear the kitchen TV. "And these are the days of our lives..." His mom loved her "stories." He knew calling out for help would do no good. Even if she decided her son was worth the effort, his Mother would just share the beating.

He closed his eyes and tried to focus on the noise to block out the pain. He'd learned many beatings ago to not even try to defend himself. Even if his father wasn't twice his size, there was nothing he could do.

Then the blows stopped, no wait, he could hear the belt connecting, but he didn't feel them landing. A new feeling replaced the pain, a warmth, starting at his back, spreading down his arms. He opened his eyes and saw small, white hands holding tight to his arms, a lock of golden hair was falling in front of his face. He could feel the pressure of her covering his back. "I'll never let anyone hurt you again," she whispered in his ear.

He believed her. He felt stupid for it, but he believed it. She was was doing it now, wasn't she.

She stood up, "Don't go, don't leave me," he cried, but almost before he could get it all out, she reached down a hand dragging him to his feet to stand tall in front of her, only inches kept one hand in his and put the other to his check and he leaned into it, grateful for the relief. His father was gone, the tv, everything. They stood alone in the ashy ruins of a burnt down shiner shack.

"Beth," he breathed her name as she brought his lips to meet hers. As light as a feather, her lips brushed his, just for an instant, then she took a step back, still holding his hand.

"You're gonna miss me so much when I'm gone Daryl Dixon." She moved further away.

"Don't, don't leave me," he begged, He held her hand as she backed away until finally she pulled out of his grasp. She was gone, as quickly as she had came, she was gone again.

She said she would never let anyone hurt him, but she just did. The pain sent him to his knees and he watched in disbelief as red tail lights faded away to darkness. "Beth!" he screamed as the darkness closed in around him. "Beth!" he screamed louder, "come back. Don't leave me."

He called after her, again and again until his throat was raw. He could hear someone calling him now, "Daryl, Daryl are you okay?"

Someone was grabbing his shoulders, hard, shaking him. He fought against the hands and pushed the owner of the hands away. Someone else was on him now holding him back. "Daryl, brother, wake up."

No, that was wrong. Daryl's brother was dead. Daryl has killed Merle's reanimated corpse himself. He struggled against the arms holding him. "Daryl, come on, wake up."

Pain shot through his ribs. He gasped and all at once woke up. He opened his eyes, but needn't have bothered; it was so dark he couldn't see much. A few desperate beams of moonlight made their way through the sparse small wholes of the walls, showing him Rick's face. Memory flooded his mind. He had found Rick and the others. They were locked in a train car, but he had found them. He was with his family again, most of them. Someone was missing, the most important someone he had ever met.

"So, you gonna keep hugging me or what man?" Daryl asked Rick, who backed off immediately with a muffled apology. "S'alright." He shook his head, trying to clear it. He didn't even realize he'd fallen asleep, but the days of endless walking, malnutrition, not to mention the beating he'd taken at the hands (and feet!) of Joe's men must have taken their toll.

"What were you dreaming about Daryl? Tell me." It was Maggie, her voice came from the floor. She must have been the one shaking his shoulders.

He shrugged his shoulders, then realized she probably wouldn't have seen the gesture. "Dunno," he muttered at her.

"Don't give me that crap Daryl Dixon." Her voice was closer now, she had stood up. "Daryl, you said her name."

The unasked question hung in the air begging to be answered. But how could he tell this woman he'd lost her baby sister. He had one person to care for, one job to do and he'd failed- miserably.

"Daryl, where's Beth?"

At the sound of her name he sucked in a breath, he wished he was being beaten again. It would be more pleasant.

"She's gone, just gone." This was his story to Rick, somehow he thought Maggie wouldn't be as accepting of it. He was glad for the dark that hide his glistening eyes. He was too tired for this.

"What do you mean 'gone'?" Maggie was standing right in front of him now, in his personal space. He felt trapped, threatened. He wanted to run away, but there was no way to go. He wanted to get back in her face, but he couldn't do that, not to any woman, and definitely not to one he cared for.

"I lost her," he forced out. With that admission the floodgates opened; he told Maggie, told all of them, about how he and Beth had got out told them about the funeral home, the dog, the walkers and the car. He told them about running after it for as long as he could and about meeting up with Joe. "It's my fault Maggie, I'm sorry. Ain't nuthin' I can do to make it right, not ever..." As his stream of words came to an abrupt end he sat heavily on the floor. He didn't think he'd ever talked that much. He wished Beth was there now, to wrap her arms around him and tell him it was okay, it wasn't his fault. But she wasn't here and it was his fault.

The train car had grown silent. He could hear Maggie trying to control her breathing, Glen's whispered affirmations.

Daryl had been told by many people, many times to go to Hell. He had finally listened.


	10. Chapter 10

Beth had grown used to the dark now. When the doors to the train car opened she slunk back in her corner trying her best to avoid the sun and the leers of her mysterious captors. She still didn't know why she was locked up here. She couldn't understand the point. The women who were here when she'd been first locked away were gone. She'd spent a few days, she thought, alone in the dark. With nothing to do and no one to talk to she explored her box, not that there was much to explore.

On her second trip around the perimeter, counting the bolts in the wall, her jeans snagged on an exposed bolt and she went reeling to the ground, further injuring her ankle. She couldn't see the foot, and she didn't think she wanted to, but she could tell the bandages Daryl had put on it had been soaked through with blood and probably worse; she could smell the infection that had set in. She couldn't tell if the sweat running down her body constantly was from being locked away in the stifling air or if the spreading infection had caused a fever. She didn't care. She was alone, injured, in the dark, and he wasn't there.

...

Beth woke, startled from her sickness induced sleep by the sound of rapid fire. Guns were being fired all around, men were shouting. Thunder erupted in the box car as a few stray bullets pounded against the rusted metal walls. A few inches from where she slumped in her corner, a small whole appeared where a bullet tore through the wall, allowing a stream of light to shine through. She reached her hand up to the light and let her fingers slowly move through it, then ignoring her instincts and the pain in her foot, she crawled over to the whole and peeked out. Blinking several times, her eyesight adjusted. She thought she could see people running through the courtyard, she caught a flash of a shining sword, was that a sheriff's hat, and were those wings? "Don't be an idiot, girl," she said to herself, then stuffed the corner of her sweater in the whole blocking out the light and throwing herself into darkness once more. She crawled back to her cornered and prayed this time she wouldn't wake up.  
...

Beth figured God wasn't listening because she did wake up later that evening when the box car door opened loudly. Her jailor, Tom she had decided to call him, was there with her daily bread.

"Here, kitty kitty," he called, laughing at his own joke. Beth never understood his humor, but he didn't need her to. "Din-din's a little late today, had a bit of commotion earlier, but here ya go" He dropped a plate of food on the floor by the door.

Beth wondered if they had some domesticated animals or if they had a great hunter, because her meals always included meat. She had been eating it to keep her strength up, but tonight she couldn't. What was she keeping her strength for anyway? "Fuck off." she whispered to Tom.

"Oh, listen to kitty hiss. Come on now darlin' you got to eat."

"Fuck off," she yelled this time, shooting him a dark look, surprised at how rough her voice came out.

Tom did something then, he'd never done before. He came into the box car, plate in hand. Beth backed further into her corner and wrapped her arms around herself as he approached. "All spit and no fire, just like a little kitten." He bent down too close to her and put her plate down next to her. He paused briefly before standing up. "God, you stink. You been sick or somethin'?"

He reached out a hand to touch her forehead, she struggled against him, attempting to knock his hands from her, but it was more than her tired, sick body could handle and she fell back in a dead faint.  
...

"...Can't waste the antibiotics on her, we gotta take the foot, otherwise the infection will spread and she'll be worthless."

"So, why not just do her now, skinny or not, why put her through that when she'll wind up the same in the end?"

"Nah, she'd just go to waste, we did another'un this afternoon. Had to feed the troops after that big to do with the new little piggies."

"I know, did you see the woman they had with them? Mmm, I love me some dark meat."

Beth blinked her eyes slowly open, listening but not really hearing the men's discussion. There was a bright light shining directly in her face, blinding her slightly, that alone was enough to let her know she'd been moved.

She was in a real room now; it was all clean and white, sterile, like a doctor's office. She tried to sit only to discover she was strapped down tightly to the table she lay on. She hissed in pain as her injured ankle strained against its binding, bringing the attention of the men.

They hushed quickly and came to her. One she saw was Tom; he stood at her waist and actually had the audacity to smile at her, like a friend. It made her stomach turn. The other was a shorter, older man with silver glasses clinging to his balding head.

"What's happening? Why am I here?" she rasped out.

"Hold on Kitty," Tom brought her a glass of water and held it to her lips while supporting her head. "Here, now have a drink."

Beth fought hard to resist the urge to spit the water in his face, instead she turned to the other man, Doc, she decided. "Who are you? What are you doing? Don't touch me."

He ignored her as he examined her foot. Without a word or even a glance at her he made himself busy gathering instruments and checking her restraints. He handed something to Tom and instructed him to gag her. Tom didn't argue. Beth tried to turn her head away from him, but her mobility was limited and she was weak, soon enough a large wad of cloth was secured in and around her mouth.

Beth began to panic when she saw the saw Doc raised up. It reflected the light with its wicked teeth. Her eyes widened and she screamed around the cloth in her mouth when she felt the first cut on her leg, just above the ankle. She heard the sickening sound of the flesh opening and the thick bone scratching against the blade. It became harder and harder to breath. She tried to think of something else, anything else as Doc continued to cut away at her leg, but there was nothing but the gut rending agony of the saw's teeth tearing away at her. She could feel the blood pouring out of her like a damn had been opened.

When she smelled the stench of flesh and skin burning, heard the sizzle of the iron against her ravished flesh she lost her stomach. She was choking on her bile and the gag when Tom realized, he removed it and helped her turn her head to the side.

"Here, throw that with the rest," Doc handed something bloody and grotesque to Tom who caught it on a tray. "Might as well take the boot too. It's ruined anyway." Tom glanced at her one last time and was gone. 

Finally, Doc looked at her, "Sorry my dear, but we just couldn't waste the meds. You'll be fine now.

Beth finished purging what few contents were left in her stomach on the sterile floor and with God's mercy passed out again.

...


	11. Chapter 11

Daryl sat in one of the corners of the box car he and the others were locked in, one knee raised his arm resting on it. His hand itched for his crossbow, the heavy weight that seemed to balance him. He'd carried the weapon everywhere for so long now it had become a part of his body. Without it, he felt naked and vulnerable, a victim. Daryl Dixon was not a victim.

Anger flooded through him as he thought of the bastards who had taken his weapon and forced he and his friends in this dammed box with no explanation as to why. He remembered the facade, how peaceful and safe everything had seemed, how good the people made themselves to be, and then this. He felt like a caged animal, he needed fresh air, space. He needed to get away from here and out of this box. Without thinking, he stood and went to the door and slammed his fist into it. The others turned to stare at the source of the sound; he hated the pity he saw in their eyes and quickly turned away to stand in the corner, his forehead pressed against the wall.

He immediately thought back to the time at the pond when Beth had put her forehead to his. She had trusted him so much, she had made him promise to never leave her. He'd broken that promise. Never mind that someone had taken her, _he_ hadn't found her. He should have left Joe's group sooner, should have looked for her. But then, he reasoned, Rick, Michonne and Carl would probably be dead. Given their circumstances though, that may not matter. What mattered was Beth. She could still me alive out there, hurt and scared and waiting for him to come. He had to get out of here, he had to find her. He began to softly bang his head against the wall as the frustration and need built with in him. He was wound so tight when a friendly hand touched his shoulder he spun ready for a fight.

Daryl looked down at Rick on the ground in front of him holding his jaw. He immediately felt like a dick. He needed to get control of himself, and fast. Acting like a fool wasn't going to help anyone. He reached a hand down to Rick, who took it and pulled up. "Sorry, man."

"It's alright, brother," Rick said as he popped his jaw, "good to know you got some fight left in you. You okay?" Rick looked at him through the darkness, searching his friend's face.

Daryl grunted and shrugged, "Just ready to get out of here is all."

Rick smiled, "me too, and I think I gotta plan."

Rick called the others around and laid the plan out for them. It was ridiculous, it would never work, but they were ready to try.

…...

When the guards brought dinner that evening Rick and Daryl had been waiting on the sides of the door and had jumped the men knocking them unconscious with twin kicks to the back of the head. Each man had been carrying a knife and a gun which were redistributed to the group. Abraham claimed a knife and wasted no time putting it through the skull of each guard. He exchanged understanding nods with Rick.

Rick took the other knife and left the box car, making sure to close the door behind him. He hoped he would be back before the two men's absence was noted. The others waited tense and silent for any clue to what was happening outside. Carl paced back and forth until Michonne stopped his nervous progress but hugging him tight. Daryl stayed close to the door, ready to take out anyone who came though without the agreed upon secret knock.

After half an hour, Daryl started to worry, he was just about to open the door and check on things when he heard three fast knocks followed by two slow ones. Daryl smirked to himself, the secret knock had been Carl's idea.

The door opened slowly, just enough for Rick to squeeze in and shut it behind him. He was grinning broadly, as he lowered the bag off his back. The weapons he had buried before coming into Terminus, he'd climbed the wall and brought them back. The group was still outnumbered and outgunned, but at least now they could do something about it.

Leaving Abraham and Ugene in the box car to handle anyone who came looking for the missing guards, the others made their way out into the courtyard under the cover of night.

Daryl stood with his back pressed against the chain-link fence, Michonne was close behind him. Only a few days ago, he and the others had been herded through here by heavy bullet fire. He saw Rick and Carl across from him pushed up close to the opposite wall. Glen and Maggie were on point and Bob and Sasha were bringing up the rear. Glen signaled and slowly everyone began to move quietly as possible toward the outer buildings of the complex.

Daryl glanced around behind him and in the moonlight noticed something he had missed before, a pile of bones soaking in blood and viscera. These were not decomposing corpses of walkers, these were the remains of butchered animals. Not animals, he noticed, these were human remains. A chill went up his back as an idea occurred to him, an idea that did not bear thinking on. Maybe it was a good thing, they had all refused to eat the meat they'd been offered.

Daryl looked at Michonne, based on the look in her eye, she'd come to the same realization he had. He nodded his head forward and they continued to follow the others. In front of the area used to dump the bodies, were several large metal oil drums filled with garbage. Daryl saw something on the top of one of the barrels that made his heart sink in to his stomach, a boot. A brown western style boot with bloody spots around the ankle as though the wearer had stepped into a bear trap while wearing them.

Beth.

Daryl picked up the boot. Beth was here, somewhere. Daryl looked back to the broken remains dumped unceremoniously behind him searching for indication she wasn't among them. He must have stood there longer than he realized. He was startled when Michonne grabbed his elbow to push him along. Sasha had caught up with them. The women gave him confused expressions. Remembering where he was and what he was doing, he tucked the boot into his back pocket, and continued on his mission, eyes open just a little wider, looking, searching for any sign she was still alive.

"I'm coming," he whispered to no one.

…...

The group had made their way to the control room with little incident; so far they had only had to kill three more guards.

Daryl surveyed the room, it was so clean, so well kept, so deceptive. Like the funeral home. Terminus was a trap. They lured people in and Daryl started to think he knew why.

He made his way around the room checking all exits were secure as Rick and the others looked around for anything useful, so far they had turned up a map of the compound as well as a few more knives and a gun. He couldn't believe the plan had worked so far. That was the easy part though, now they had to figure what to do next.


	12. Chapter 12

Beth looked about in the gloom. She was still in the clinic, Doc sat at a desk not far away, surrounded by a halo of flickering candle light; he was going over a medical book of some sort. Beth tried to be quiet so as to not draw his attention.

She tried to stretch her tired limbs but she was still strapped to the table. She stifled a cry of pain when she moved her now amputated ankle. So, it hadn't all been a horrible dream; those bastards had actually cut off her foot. "Why?" she asked before she could stop herself.

Doc jumped at her sudden question. "What was that my dear?"

"Don't call me that you asshole. What happened? Why did you cut off my foot?"

"Ah, that." He replied nonchalantly as he put down his book and made his way to her. "You had a terrible infection my dear. Had I not removed the offending limb, you would have died." He circled her to examine her stump. "And we couldn't have that, now could we?" His smile made her feel sick.

"Maybe you should have just let me die. What's the point anyway? Why am I here?"

"As to that my dear," he relished the way she scrunched up her face at the endearment, "you are here for a very special reason indeed. You will accomplish much good with your life, well your death anyway. Do not fret; we'll not let a choice morsel like yourself go to waste."

Beth was tired, her foot hurt, her body ached everywhere from being tied down for so long and this fool was making no sense. What was he talking about? "Just go away."

Doc laughed at her, "They're right about you, all spit and no fire," he laid a hand on her stump causing her to suck in her breath, "don't worry Kitty, you'll be back in your box soon enough."

He walked back over to his desk and resumed his reading not giving her a second thought. She put her head back on the table and tried to imagine she was somewhere else. Instead of a cold metal exam table, she was stretched out on a sun-warmed rock. Instead of strapped down, her hands were wrapped in Daryl's, calming him from a nightmare. What had he been dreaming about, who was he calling to, she wondered. She had never thought to ask. Well, if she ever got out of this, she was going to find him and she was going to ask him.

Don't be stupid. When will you ever learn, you little fool? She thought to herself. You aren't getting out of this and even if you did you're not going to last long on one foot. Sure your daddy made it after they cut off his leg, but he hadn't been on the run and besides look what happened to him. You're not going anywhere.

But Daryl…

What about him? He's not coming. Assuming he made it out of that mortuary alive, did you see the size of that herd; he couldn't possibly have followed you.

But…

Face it you little fool, you are going to die here, alone, and no one you know will ever know what happened to you.

No, no, he's coming he has to.

Beth argued with herself for a long time, trying to convince herself to have hope, but it was a losing battle. She had never been so alone.

Finally she sang herself to sleep, "Rock me mama like a wagon wheel, rock me mama anyway you feel…"

…

Daryl looked up at Rick, "You sure about this?"

Rick had just assigned everyone a job, a task. Daryl wasn't happy about splitting up, but moving together they would be too loud, too easy to spot. Rick pointed at the map as he outlined his plan. Abraham and Eugene would go around to the buildings marked for residents and secure all the doors and as many windows as possible. Sasha, Maggie and Glen would scope out the kitchen for any nonperishables; they'd given Daryl a curious look when he strongly suggested they stay away from any meat they found. "Couldn't be worse than possum," Maggie had argued. Michonne was quick to say it very well could be.

Daryl had volunteered to check the areas labeled "holding pen" for any other captives; Rosita gave him a wide grin and said she'd go along. Rick and Carl were going to find get away vehicles and as much fuel as possible. That left Michonne and Tara to check the clinic with Bob, as the closest thing they had to a medical expert, and the armory. Rick had said the armory was a last priority and if they got there and it was too heavily guarded, to forget it.

"You got any better ideas?" Daryl was quiet. "I don't see how we could do anything else. We can't take this place down, not with so few people. We can't stay here much longer and we gotta go. It'll work. These people, they're cocky and that makes'em stupid. We made it here almost unnoticed, that means they have only a minimal guard, and most of those are looking outside the gates for walkers. We got the cover of night and we got surprise on our side. If we're fast and we're smart we can do this. You with me brother?"

"Always man," Daryl nodded. "Let's get going then, no sense wastin' time."

"Right everyone clear on their jobs?" Rick looked around at the group. Everyone was here now, Sasha and Bob had gone back to retrieve the others from the box car. They all nodded serious, resolute. "We all clear on the rendezvous point?" another collective nod.

"Alright, everyone stay zen out there." Daryl tried to give everyone a confident smile, but he was feeling anything but zen. He still had Beth's shoe, trying to keep it out of Maggie's view. If Beth were still alive, he was going to find her, no sense raising anyone else's hope on the matter.

People broke into their groups and one at a time those groups headed out. Daryl nodded to Rosita when she walked over to him; hand out stretched, "I'm Rosita."

"Daryl," he grunted at her as he shook her hand quickly, trying not to stare at her perfectly round and obviously displayed cleavage. Damn things were near hypnotic. He shook his head, and though of Beth's small but pert breast, thought of her smile that lit up his world. He knew then no other woman would ever live up to her. No matter how hypnotic her breasts were. He ran his hand through his hair and nodded toward the door in indication they should head out.

Improvised weapons raised and at the ready, they headed out to start their search.

…

"Here, kitty, kitty," Beth woke to Tom's call. How she hated those words. He was carrying a plate of food- an apple and some nuts- and a cup of water. "Thought my kitty could use a midnight snack."

Beth wanted to tell him on no account did she want his suck-ass snack, but she forced herself to smile at him instead, a reckless plan quickly unraveling in her mind at the sight of the silverware he had brought with her.

"Hi there stranger," she tried to sound sincere, "I was wondering when you'd be back for me."

She felt a little bad as he smiled at her, but then she remembered what this man had put her though and put the guilt of what she was planning aside. "Well, now, has kitty put away her claws? Never fear, John will always take care of his kitty, well for as long as you're here." He did that self-satisfied laugh she had come to hate, but she forced herself to keep smiling at him. "Well now, I do declare, I much prefer this new domesticated side of you."

"If I promise to be nice, will you let me sit up?" John, not Tom she thought, looked dubious, "Please?" she pouted. He began to waver, "Come on, I ain't goin' nowhere on one foot and with such a strong guard as you? Please, I just want to sit up. Kitty can't hardly eat laying on her back, can she?"

"I suppose not, but no funny business you understand?"

She shook her head, flashed him the best smile she could muster, and held up three fingers, "Girl scout promise."

"Alright then." He put the plate and silverware down on her legs and moved to undo the buckles at her wrists. "But just enough to sit up, ya hear?" She nodded and he pulled away the strap holding her down at the waist.

She sat up slowly, dizzy from the recent loss of blood, and made a careful show of stretching her back and shaking out her wrists. She tried not to look at her feet-foot. Instead she looked to him, "What goodies have you brought your kitty tonight?" she asked as she picked up the plate still on her lap. "Mmmm, this looks amazing, you're always so good to your kitty. "

John had retreated to the chair Doc had occupied earlier; she needed to get him back over close to her. She smiled and took a big bite of the apple. It was so sweet; she nearly forgot why she was there. She took a few more bites; she'd need her strength, and then picked up one of the nuts, pecans, still in the shell. She tried to crack it, but couldn't. "Will you help me, please?" she stretched her arm out to him a small pout on her lips.

He immediately got up and crossed the room to her. He held out his hand and just when he would have collected the nuts she proffered, she tilted her hand and they went falling to the ground. "Oh no," she cried in mock despair.

"No worries Kitty," he was saying as he bent over to collect the nuts. As quick as she could Beth picked up the heavy porcelain plate and brought it crashing down on John's head, it shattered to pieces around him. He groaned, but didn't go down. He stood, blood pouring from an open wound at his temple and looked at her in utter shock, "bad Kitty, " he shouted as he back handed her.

She cried out as her head was forced to the side by the blow. He was trying to secure her left hand again, but in her right she still gripped a large shard of the plate. She brought it down hard into his back, between the shoulder blades, pushing it in as far as she could. Then she grabbed the small knife he had brought with him, supposedly for slicing the apple, and buried it at the base of his skull. John fell to the floor in a pile, a look of disbelief marring his features. "I guess Kitty has claws after all."

She began to laugh at the absurdity of what she had just done. She'd killed her share of walkers, but never a living human. And why had she killed him, she was never going to get out of this place. Soon her laughs turned into sobs and tears were rolling down her face as she stared down at John.

She had to collect herself, she couldn't fall apart now. Everyone has their job to do. She may not be able to get out of this place, but she'd go down swing and taking as many of these bastards with her as she could manage.

She unhooked the buckles on her legs and the one on her remaining foot, still stubbornly looking away from the stump of her left leg. Slowly she slid herself off the table; she needed to move as quickly as possible, she had no idea when anyone would be back. Doc could come and check on her, someone could come looking for Tom, anyone could walk in on her and she would be screwed.

She reclaimed the knife from John's back, she didn't think she'd be able to get it through his head, just one more reason to hurry her escape. She smiled when she thought about Doc walking in to find a turned John.

She crawled quickly over to the desk Doc had been sitting at and pulled herself into the rolling chair. She searched the desk for anything useful, and found some keys she thought might fit the medical cabinet on the other side of the room. She stared at the key weighting her options. She seriously doubted she would get out of this place, but if she did, she would need the meds. She finally decided it was worth the risk and time, she was dead either way.

Using her good foot, her only foot and a hand on the wall, she skirted the room and rolled over to the cabinet, the key fit and turned easily. There were more meds in that cabinet than she had seen in a long time. She grabbed a few bottles labeled hydrocodone and some penicillin and then made her way to the closet in the corner hopping to find some crutches. Her good luck had run low though it was only a broom closet. "Better than nothing" she said to herself, as she picked out her new support. She decided on the neglected looking Swiffer sweeper in the back of the closet- it had a good wide base.

"Here goes nothing." She held tight to the Swiffer and slowly stood. When she didn't immediately fall she allowed herself a moment of elation and hope. That moment shattered when she heard a door nearby open and close.

As quickly as she could, she began to hop to the door of the clinic. "Couldn't beat a disabled snail at this pace Greene," she chastised herself. When she got to the door, she peeked carefully down the dark hall and saw to her dismay three people coming out her way. She closed the door quietly and stepped back into the room, looking for a place to hide. There was another exam table nearby, with a curtain, she hobbled to it and wrapped the curtain around her body. Maybe the people in the hall would skip this room. Maybe they would just poke their head in and the semi-darkness in the room would hide her and the dead John (she cursed herself for not having blown out the candle on the desk.). Maybe she could slip out of the door while they looked at the body. Those were a lot of maybes.

Beth held her breath when she heard the door knob turn and the click of it leaving the frame. She heard the whispered voices of people coming into the room and close the door quietly behind them. Why were they being so stealthy? She listened as they made their way around the room taking the candle with them. She knew she should try to slip away when the candle stopped in the middle of the room where she knew John lay, but she was too afraid to move and give away her position.

"Looks like someone else has always been here," whispered a woman Beth didn't recognize. "This guy's dead. Do you think it was one of ours?"

There was no answer. Beth cautiously opened the curtain to try to see who was here and if they were looking for her. They didn't seem upset at John's death, whoever they were- it was too dark to tell. Maybe she had allies. That would certainly be a miracle. Her brain screamed at her to stop being so stupid and naive. Hadn't she learned by now, she couldn't trust anyone.

…..

Michonne glanced at the body on the ground as Tara knelt next to him. Someone had stabbed the man in the back, twice. Who had it been though? She shook her head no to Tara's question. None of their people should have been anywhere near here and if they had they'd've finished the job.

She knelt next to Tara and brought her dagger down firmly in the man's skull. No sense taking chances. Bob whistled to the women and they walked over to him. Michonne looked into the darkness surrounding them, keeping watch in case the murderer was still here somewhere. She thought she saw a slight movement across the room but Bob whistled again and she turned her attention to him.

"It was unlocked already. Looks like someone else is making a run for it," he whispered.

Michonne handed him a bag and he started throwing all the little plastic pill bottles and the packages of first aid supplies into it, not stopping to check what they were, he just took it all.

There was a loud bang across the room. All three of the scavengers turned as one and looked in the direction it had come from. A Swiffer sweeper was lying on the ground. They eyed it suspiciously then Tara said,

"We gotta get outta here. Come on."

Carefully the group left the room, Michonne stopped to pick up a saw and they were gone.

….

Daryl slowly opened the door to the first train car he came to. It was empty. He climbed inside to be sure, just the other day he and the others had heard people shouting for help from here, he was certain of it.

He glanced around in the dark; he didn't want to leave anyone behind. Not again. Just as he turned to leave a strange shadow caught his attention. He stalked cautiously up to it. Someone had stuffed a sweater into a

tiny whole in the side of the car. Strange he thought, but he pulled it out and took it outside with him. In the light of the moon he thought the sweater looked a familiar shade of dingy yellow.

Beth.

He brought the sweater up to his face and smelled it. It was hers. He didn't know how he knew, but it had to be.

"Ummm, you okay over there Lone Ranger?" Rosita shocked him out of his reverie.

"Lone Ranger, huh? Been called worse" he asked lowering the sweater.

"Yeah, seems to fit you. What's up?" she asked again nodding at the sweater.

"Nothin'. Come on Squanto." He tied the sweater around his waist and moved slowly over to the next car. This was the last one on the map, his last hope really. He paused as his hand rested on the door handle. As long as this door was closed, she could be in there. As long as this door was closed he had hope of finding her. If he opened it and she wasn't there? He didn't know what he would do.

"Hey man, it stuck or something?"

"Nah," he grunted and pulled the door to the side, it screeched loud enough to wake the dead. "Shit!" he groaned. "Come on hop up," he ordered her, as he gave her a hand into the car.

"Damn," he heard her curse next to him and turned to look where she was. Up against the wall opposite the door slumped an old man, well what was left of him. He opened his eyes wide as he spat at them.

"Just kill me you damn vultures," he shouted.

"Shhhh, shhh, we ain't them old timer," Daryl whispered urgently to the man as he went to his side.

The man looked confused, "You ain't? Well who are you then?"

"My name's Daryl, that there is Rosita, we're trying to get outta here and we'd like to do it in one piece," Daryl glanced down at the legless, one-armed man. "Sorry," he muttered.

"Look Daryl? Daryl, kill me please!? You gotta do it. These fuckers have been taking me one piece at a time. Please God, just do it."

"Nah man, I can't do that."

"Please you gotta. You can't take me with you, assuming you make it out, I'd be a burden and I have no desire to live like that. What kinda life would I have out there?" The old man looked Daryl square in the eyes. "You can't leave me here like this. Please?" he whispered.

Daryl looked at Rosita as she knelt down on the man's other side and took has hand, holding it to her heart.

"Damn Sugar, those things are damn near hypnotic." He smiled at her.

She smiled back, "Yeah I get that a lot. Come on Daryl, we don't have time, we gotta go."

"Okay. You sure 'bout this?" he asked the old man. He nodded. "What's your name, brother?"

"Chip. Chip Montgomery." He held Rosita's hand tight. "Thank you."

"Chip, close your eyes." He did and whispered a thank you as he felt the cold steel of Daryl's knife at his throat. Daryl had a brief flash back to the first time he had had to kill a living human, Dale. It had been a mercy killing then too. He looked at Rosita then as quickly and strongly as his tired muscles would let him, he pulled the knife across Chips throat. The jugular opened easily and Chip fell over into a pool of his own blood.

Rosita let his hand fall from hers and stood slowly, offering a hand to Daryl. He took it and let her help him to her feet.

Daryl had a brief moment to be grateful Rosita felt no need to comfort him or be comforted by him, when they heard footsteps outside. The door opening had brought someone after all. He signaled to Rosita to go to one side of the door and he went to the other, pressing against the wall.

A man come to the door and cursed loudly when he saw Chip's dead body on the ground lying in a pool of blood. "Billy, Ben over here quick," he shouted and Daryl heard the answer of two sets of footsteps. He signaled to Rosita to stay calm and took a step back along the wall.

Soon the first man stepped into the train car. Daryl put a hand against his mouth and quickly stabbed him in the neck. He pulled the knife out, now covered in two men's blood, and dragged the body away from the door.

The other two men had arrived, "James?" one of them shouted. "James what the hell's going on? They climbed up into the car, one after the other, and before they could take in the whole scene Daryl and Rosita jumped them. Daryl stabbed one man in the back as Rosita jumped on the other's back, wrapping her arms tightly around his neck in a deathly choke hold. He had to hand it to her, the woman was stronger than she looked; her man was soon on the floor next to the others.

"Good work Kemosabe," Daryl said appreciatively as he knelt to relieve the two guards he'd killed of their weapons. He turned to hand her a gun and froze when he saw what she was holding. His crossbow. He hadn't noticed it in the heat of the moment, but that son of a bitch had been carrying his girl. Rosita saw the way he was staring at the weapon and held it out to him without a word. He took it, equally silent. He smiled at the familiar weight; his arm was complete again. He gave Rosita the gun and bent to collect the bolts from the guard.

He shot each of the bodies in the head, reveling in the familiar action, collected his bolts and then the pair climbed out of the car and closed the door.

Daryl reloaded the crossbow and began making his way reluctantly to the rendezvous point. Beth was here, he knew that, but it may be time to consider she was gone. She had been a captive, of that he had no doubt and if she wasn't locked away with the rest of the captives, where could she possibly be.

She was dead. He had to accept that. He had to think of the others now. There was no time to give way to his grief, if he did that others could get hurt or die. He had enough guilt on his conscience and more than enough blood on his hands. He just had to hold t together long enough to get everyone out of this Hell hole. Then when he was alone he could sit down and die if he wanted to- and he wanted to.

He wrapped the sweater around the boot and tucked the items away.


	13. Chapter 13

Beth was frozen in place; she couldn't believe she'd dropped the sweeper. She clutched the curtain doing her best to keep balance, but she was tired and she hurt. She wouldn't be able to stand much longer.

Thankfully, the broom seemed to have shaken the people in the room and they made a hasty retreat. She heard the door click shut and let out a rush of air in pure relief they hadn't come for her. Holding tight to the curtain for support she slowly bent forward to retrieve her make-shift walking stick. The curtain couldn't hold her small weight though and ripped from the ceiling, sending her crashing to the floor. The curtain landed on top of her, dust rained down from the plastered ceiling.

Beth coughed as the dust settled around her and she hissed in pain. That was it, she was screwed, she'd probably woken every living human within a hundred feet of the clinic, not to mention calling the attention of the people just outside the door.

She rolled on to her back, the sweeper gripped tight, ready to use it to defend herself. She knew he wouldn't hold out long, but damned if she wasn't going to try.

…...

"Did you hear that?" Tara asked the others.

"Kinda hard not to. What do you think it was?" replied Bob as he stared at the door they had just closed.

Michonne shushed them and reached her hand up for a katana that wasn't there. "Damn. You two stay back. Something is going on here and I'm going to find out what."

Michonne slowly walked back to the door, cracking it open. She couldn't make out much in the darkness, but she could hear someone's harsh breath. She stepped in and stood with her back to the wall letting her eyes adjust to the darkness in the room- Bob held the candle outside.

She looked in the direction the breathing seemed to be coming from and saw a pile of something on the floor, not far away. She walked carefully toward the pile, light as ever on her feet. Unfortunately she tripped slightly on a rock or something and nearly feel to the ground.

The sound must have alerted the person to her presence, because the breathing stopped. She took two more cautious steps forward before something whipped out at her ankles, tripping her and sending her to her knees. The same object came back around and hit her in the head. Then someone was on her.

The person whoever it was, was small, a girl Michonne thought, and weak. It didn't take much for Michonne to take the upper hand and twist her body so that she rolled the assailant off and landed on top of her. She straddled the girl and pulled her knife from her waist raising it high. The steel flashed in the candle light as Bob ran into the room. Michonne had a brief second to register the way her assailant's blonde hair reflected the light before she brought down her knife.

…...

Daryl skirted the wall of the closest building; he could see a guard on the roof opposite him. With years of practiced agility and stealth he made his way to the fire escape, climbing it slowly testing each step cautiously for squeaks. When he made it to the last landing he looked down at Rosita keeping watch below him. She stood with her back to the wall and knife braced to take on anyone who dared her.

He poked his head up quickly and scanned the roof, only one guard and he was looking out into the woods. Rick was right, these arrogant fucks were stupid.

Daryl stood to his full height, crossbow raised and gave a whistle. The guard turned in time to see the bolt pierce his forehead. Never let it be said Daryl Dixon shot a man in the back.

Daryl crouch-ran over to the body. He relieved the ineffective guard of a pair of night vision binoculars, a shotgun, a few rounds and to his surprise a very familiar katana. He slung the weapon across his back, thinking of the look in Michonne's eyes when she saw it again.

He took a quick peek through the binoculars and found three more guards, all looking the wrong way. Then did a careful sweep of the compound. He thought he saw a flicker of movement by the gates but that was all. Terminus was quiet. "Good," he thought, "let's hope it stays that way." He did one final sweep, some part of him hoping to catch sight of a possible holding area not on the map, nothing.

He made his way back to Rosita down below. "All clear, the guards are facing out, like Rick said they would. Come on, let's go Tonto.

"Whoa, nice blade man. You a swordsman too?" Rosita said when she saw the katana.

"Nah, never had use for one," he replied gruffly.

"Can I have it then?" she reached out a hand to stroke it with what could only be described as lust in her eyes. "All ways wanted one."

"That depends."

"On what?" she pouted at him.

"You think you can take Michonne on?"

"What do you mean?"

"It's hers. They took it from her before they locked us up. I don't think she'll take to me giving it away." Daryl gave a harsh laugh when he thought of what Michonne would do to him, to Rosita, if he gave the sword a way. It would not be pretty.

"Ah, well, I ain't that kinda girl." he looked at her confused so she continued, "wouldn't take something belonging to another girl, I mean."

They heard slow foot steps near by and he hushed her pointing in the direction the footsteps came from. They pressed themselves back to the wall and waited, the footsteps got closer and closer. It sounded like someone was dragging something. At one point they stopped like someone was carrying something and had to stop to readjust. The footsteps started again after only a moment.

When the owner of those footsteps rounded the corner, Daryl and Rosita were ready. They jumped out at the two people the saw coming who also had weapons out . Blade met blade and flesh met flesh as everyone sought to defend themselves.

Daryl pushed his attacker away and noticed for the first time, the faded sheriff's hat, "Carl?" Next to them the other two had stopped their tussle as well.

"Rick," Daryl started. "How'd it go?"

"Had to take out a few folks, but we got a cars, gassed up and ready, just gotta wait for the others. And you? This it."

"Yeah, looks like we were the main attraction 'round here. We found one other man, but he didn't make it. Had to kill a few ourselves."

Rick nodded, "Gimme a hand will ya? Carl take point."

Daryl looked at the large item Rick and Carl had been trying to carry between them. It was a large oil drum. "Fuel?" Daryl asked to Rick's answering nod as he grabbed the side Carl had been holding. Then together they made their way back to the vehicles the Grimes had found.

Rick nodded toward an old Ford pick up and they loaded the oil drum in the back of it.

"Now we wait," Rick said when they had fastened it down.

"Now we wait," Daryl echoed.

…...

The next to arrive were Abraham and Eugene, who reported a successful mission. Abraham had killed three men stationed outside the barracks. He smiled when he recounted the action tale in whispers.

Not long after Maggie, Glen and Sasha made an appearance, each laden down with bags of food and water. They hadn't run into any trouble. Apparently this place didn't feel the need to guard its food supply. They divided the food bags between the cars and took up watch positions.

Half an hour later and the final group hadn't checked in. Daryl was getting nervous. He tried to hide it, but as the minutes ticked by that was getting harder and harder. Everything had gone too easy. It felt like they were headed for something big. A trap. A bigger trap than this place. It wasn't possible to just walk out of this place, it couldn't be.

"We can't wait much longer," Daryl looked over at Abraham as he voiced his doubts. "Sooner or later, someone is bound to notice we ain't where were meant to be. Someone's gonna try to get out of bed. Guards are gonna change shift..." he trailed off as Rick raised his hands.

"Just hold on now, they'll be here. They had two places to check." Rick tried to reassure them, but sounded more anxious than anything else. "They'll be here."

Abraham looked ready to dispute that, when Daryl spoke up, "Maybe I should go look for'em?" he suggested. Anything was better than waiting around.

"No, we can't risk it. We gotta stick to the plan. They'll be here." he said again as he scanned the darkness.

Five minutes later they heard distant thunder, like someone was banging against a metal door. Then accompanying shouts of orders being given, and further away the too familiar sound of a box car being scrapped open.

"That'd be our cue to go, don't ya think?" Abraham directed at Rick who was still searching for the others.

Daryl caught sight of movement to the left, he raised his crossbow, it was Michonne, she had two large duffel bags slung over her back. "Rick, it's them," he pointed at where he'd seen her as he turned and ran for the pick-up. He jumped in behind the wheel, Maggie and Sasha slid in the other side of the cab, Bob and Glen climbed in the back and covered up with blankets.

Abraham, Eugene and Rosita claimed their seats in a small four door- Abraham looked comical in the relatively tiny vehicle.

Rick and Carl jumped into the Suburban at the back of the line as Rick gave the signal to go ahead.

"Here goes nothing," Daryl mumbled as he turned over the engine. It roared to life and he floored the gas as the first round of shots were fired.

He didn't stop to look behind him as he speed through the unopened gate and down the road to God knew where.


	14. Chapter 14

Daryl finally found a place to pull over as the sun peeked up beyond the horizon. They were in a small town just south of the Georgia, Tennessee line. He'd picked a large house on the edge of town as a likely spot and pulled the truck into the drive.

He banged twice on the back of the truck, "Let's clear'er out boys."

The other two men jumped up, weapons at the ready and followed Daryl to the house. He knocked on the door and waited, as was customary. There was no sound of living or dead, so he tried the door. It was locked tight. "Looks like we gonna have to do it the hard way boys." He stepped back and kicked the door hard as he heard two more cars pull up to the house. "Let's go."

The three men went through the house room ,by room and found nothing but the forgotten objects that used to make up someone's life. "Alright man, you bring in the others, I'm gonna check the perimeter." Daryl said to Glen as they left the last room. Glen nodded and head out the front door.

Daryl took the back door through the kitchen. He had no desire to see anyone else. He had managed to keep his emotions in check on the drive, mostly because the women had been content to doze off. But now, in the house, it was harder. He had nearly broken completely when he spotted a can of spaghettios in the kitchen. He needed to get away from everyone. Now.

He walked straight through the backyard and opened the gate of the short chain link fence surrounding it. He walked blindly in to the woods behind the house and when he judged he was far enough to not be heard, he let it out.

He punched a nearby tree, immediately regretting it as pain lanced up his arm. When would he learn punching train cars and tree trunks was bad for his hand? He clutched his hand and sunk to the ground, resting his back against the tree. He pulled the boot and sweater from his pocket and clutched it tightly to his chest. Letting the tears fall unchecked.

It as all his fault. She was gone. First Herschel and now his daughter. No matter what Beth had told him, he knew it was his fault the governor had destroyed everything they had all worked for. And now she was dead too, because he didn't save her. He had been too late. Everything he touched turned to shit. He wasn't fit to be around others, he'd only get them hurt. There was nothing back in that house for him now and if he did go back, he'd just be being selfish. It was time he left. He' be okay on his own, he'd done it before, and they'd be better off without him.

He dried his tears and stood, ready to leave when he heard a twig snap behind him. He spun around, crossbow raised ready to take down any threat.

"Whoa, Redneck, it's just me," said Michonne with a chuckle as she looked at him, her hands raised. Then more seriously, "You okay Daryl?" She moved to step toward him and he stepped away, shrugging.

"Come on back to the house, I got something for you."

"Ain't nothin' in there for me anymore." He turned to go.

"Come one, trust me. You want to see this." He didn't turn around, just kept walking away. "Hmm, guess I'll have to tell her you said bye."

Her? Daryl stopped in his tracks and turned to look at Michonne. Her dark face was split in a wide grin. "Come on ya old Redneck."

Her? He couldn't have heard that right. Was it possible? On shaking knees he ran back to the house, jumping the gate like a man half his age, stopping short at the steps to the back door.

There she was in the door way. He hair was dirty and tangled, falling limply to her shoulders. Her clothes were positively foul, and she was everywhere covered in filth. It looked like her shoulder had been bleeding. He did not give one single damn about any of it. She was here. She was standing right in front of him, smiling at him like she hadn't been through Hell.

He reached a hand out to her as he took the two steps that closed the gap between them. She clutched his hand tightly as tears began to fall down her checks. She pulled him to her touching his hand to her face before he fell to his knees before her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close, his head on her stomach. She held him there as she sobbed in joy, and relief. Tears fell freely down his face now and he didn't care who saw them. She was here. His Beth was here, in his arms and that was all he needed.


	15. Chapter 15

Three squirrels, one rabbit and two walkers later, Daryl was still unable to quell his rage. He couldn't believe what had happened to Beth. It was his fault, he had let those people take her, imprison her, torture her, and God knows what else. If he had taken care of her in the first place, this never would have happened. He tried not to think about how hard her life would be now, as if it wasn't already a daily struggle.

He almost shot Glenn when he'd followed him out that evening. He vaguely listened to Glenn's words of understanding and assurance, about how anger wasn't going to help anyone, lest of all Beth; that he had felt the same after what the Governor did to Maggie. Daryl tried to listen, but he was too mad, he needed to get his anger out and if Glenn didn't leave soon it wouldn't go well for him. "Just go, man. You're wastin' time out here. Get back in there and take care of Maggie."

It looked like he was going to walk away but he stopped, "Daryl, what happened with you and Beth. The way you two reacted…Maggie thinks there's something goin' on."

"Tell Maggie to mind her own business," he was mad and the last thing he needed was an interrogation. He knew he had let his emotions get the better of him earlier that day, knew it was stupid to hold her like that in front of everyone, but at the moment he didn't care. She was alive, despite everything, she was alive and they were together again.

When he saw her foot, or rather missing foot, the moment shattered. What had those bastards done? He'd stuck around to hear her story, she kept trying to make eye contact with him, but he knew if he looked at her, he'd lose it then and there. So he waited 'til her words halted and left without a word. He couldn't be around people and he needed to get away from Glenn now, before he did something they would both regret. "There ain't nothin' goin' on. How could there be. She's so…and I'm just…not….just go away man."

Glenn looked like he wanted to refute that, but mercifully thought better of it. "Just be careful out here. You won't do anyone any good if you turn into some walker's midnight snack." He handed Daryl a flashlight then shoved his hands in his pockets and left Daryl to his hunting.

After, the third squirrel, not bad for night hunting, Daryl stumbled on an exposed root he hadn't seen. He sat for a moment clutching the knee he'd fallen on, and he heard Merle's voice in his head. "Oh poor baby brother, did you get a boo-boo. Why don't you go on in and let that sweet little piece of ass kiss it for ya, huh?"

"She ain't some piece of ass."

"Oh yeah? Then why didn't you tell the chink that? I always knew you liked'em young baby brother. Mm-mm. I bet she's nice and tight on your little dick."

"Shut up." Daryl argued with himself. "You don't know, just shut up and go away."

"I know what it's like brother, to be abandoned and have a piece of yourself cut off. Maybe I should go have a "chat" with Blondie."

"You're dead. Shut up."

Daryl hated how much his brother was still in his head, but he supposed that would never go away. Merle hadn't been the best brother, but at least he died proving it was possible for the Dixon's to do something good. Merle was a survivor.

That was it, Merle. Suddenly Daryl had an idea. He shoved his kills in his bag and went back to the house, dropping them in the kitchen.

He considered leaving right then and there, but thought it would be better to wait until morning. Instead he crept through the house and made his way to her room. He cracked the door quietly, she was sound asleep. He watched her for a moment as the moon light shined in through the window. She was shivering. He crept back through the house and found a blanket in the hall closet. He returned and tucked the blanket around her, giving her a small kiss on the head. She murmured contentedly in her sleep but didn't wake. He sunk to the ground next to the bed, resting his back against the frame and fell asleep with his head next to her hand.

He woke long before she did and stretched his tired muscles. It was time to go. He stole one more kiss then walked out, hoping she would understand.

…

It didn't take Daryl long to find what he was looking for; it was on the floor of the first closet he opened. He grabbed the backpack and upended it, sending papers and other random bits of office supplies scattering everywhere. He took his find to the kitchen and shoved in a few cans of food with pop lids, some bottled water and Beth's boot along with the map of Georgia he'd taken from the country club. He threw the bag over one shoulder, picked up his crossbow and headed out.

He stopped at the foot of the stairs for a moment and looked up where he knew she would be sleeping. They had given her some pretty strong antibiotics and she was groggy. He didn't want to bother her, he lied to himself. Really, he knew if he saw her, he wouldn't have the strength to go, and he needed to go. He ran his hand through his hair, and walked out of the door without a word to anyone.

He threw the bag and bow in the truck and followed them, slamming the door behind him. The engine roared to life when he turned the key. He threw it into gear and backed hurriedly out of the drive. Rick was waiting at the gate post.

Daryl considered not stopping, but he did anyway. He rolled the window down, but wouldn't look at Rick.

"Where ya goin' brother?" Rick asked as he put a hand on the truck door.

It was a simple question, but Daryl couldn't answer. "I just gotta do something, man."

"You comin' back?" Rick asked looking at the ground.

Daryl took a deep breath and let it rush out, " Course, man. Just…I gotta do this." Darly looked up at the window he knew was hers, "Take care of her man. Keep her safe."

Rick looked at him, "You know I will brother."

Daryl gripped the wheel hard, "Listen, if you gotta, if you gotta go, if it ain't safe here or somethin',don't wait for me. If y'all gotta go, go, just keep her safe."

Rick looked like he wanted to argue, but something in him knew it was pointless to argue with Daryl now. "How long you plan on bein' gone?"

"Not sure. Maybe only a few days, if I'm lucky. Longer if you keep talkin'." Daryl risked a glance to Rick, they each gave a clipped laugh. "I gotta go man. I gotta do this for her," he said, serious again.

"Want me to come?"

"Nah, man. You gotta take care of them." Daryl's knuckles were turning white on the steering wheel. "Thanks."

"Just be careful and hurry back." Rick took a step back from the truck."

"Always." Daryl backed out on the street and risked another glance to the window. It wasn't empty this time. She was there, leaning on the window frame, holding the wall with one hand. She raised the other in a salute as their eyes locked. Daryl nodded to her, resisting the urge to rush back in the house. "Oh and Rick, make sure, if you gotta leave, make sure you leave a trail. Make sure I can find you again."

He didn't wait for an answer, just stomped on the gas and sped away before he could change his mind.

….

Beth watched Daryl speed away wondering when she'd see him again, if she'd see him again. She lowered her arm, wincing at the pain in her shoulder where Michonne had stabbed her. At least she'd seen Beth's face in time to alter if not stop the arc of the knife. Thank God Bob had walked in when he had.

She had just enough time to jump one-footed toward the bed when there was a soft knock and the door opened. Maggie popped her head in the room and when she saw Beth in the middle of the room, she rushed in setting down a tray she carried and practically ran to her sister's side.

"Bethy, what are you doin'?" She threw her arm around Beth's waist as Beth wrapped her arm around Maggie's neck. Maggie helped her to the bed and arranged the pillows to help Beth sit up. Then she recollected the tray and sat it across Beth's lap. "There you go, eat up." Beth smiled and picked up the spoon. "What were you doin' up?"

"I heard a car start up. Wanted to see who it was." Beth frowned at her sister. "Where's Daryl goin'? A run or somethin'?"

It was Maggie's turn to frown. "No one knows. He didn't say anything to anyone, just left. Looked like he took enough food for a few days though." Beth seemed to deflate at that making Maggie wonder just what had happened in the time she was alone with Daryl. She thought back to Daryl's reaction to seeing Beth yesterday; the way he had wrapped his arms around her, and how she had held him tight in return. The whole group knew Daryl as a loner kind of guy who didn't let people close, who didn't talk much and touched even less. He always seemed so tough and stand-offish. Carol used to joke about him running like a scared rabbit if anyone tried to show him some affection. Maybe they were wrong about him.

Maggie cocked her head to the left as she watched her sister worry at her bottom lip with her teeth. "Beth, you need to eat. You need your strength." Beth smiled again, but Maggie saw through the façade, there was something Beth wasn't saying. She decided to broach the subject. "Beth, Beth, I won't judge you or anything, I won't be mad, but Beth, what happened between you and Daryl?"

Beth stopped sipping the soup, "What do you mean? Daryl saved me, he got me out of the prison, and we were together for a while" all traces of smile faded, " until… until they took me." She whispered.

"Yeah, but Beth, I saw you two yesterday, the way you acted. We all saw him hold you like you were the last, most precious thing in the world. And when he told us, when we were locked in, about losing you, Beth I never heard someone sound so lost and broken. "

Beth found herself smiling at her sister's word, was she that to Daryl, the most precious thing in the world? She remembered seeing him yesterday, jumping the fence, running to her. The look in his eyes as he stood there staring at her. She wanted to cry at the sweetness she saw there. She still couldn't believe she'd made it out of that place alive and was with him and their family again. But the anger when he found out what had been done to her; she thought he was going to hurt someone. She told the story haltingly, to the whole group as Bob examined and cleaned her stump with gentle hands. He had said the work was patchy but would heal alright with the meds they'd found.

Everyone's reactions were different, Maggie cried in Glenn's arms; Rick and Carl cursed under their breaths, the others were clearly upset, worried, but Daryl, _she_ was worried about him. He had stood against the wall, his arms crossed, staring at her from the shadows. She found it hard to talk to the others with his eyes on her like that, and how she wished they would all just go away so he could wrap his arms around her again. But she didn't think that would happen. So she told her story, and when she was done he walked out. They heard the back door slam as he left through the kitchen. Glenn kissed Maggie on the head and followed Daryl. Rick put a hand on his shoulder, "Watch yourself." Apparently Beth wasn't the only one who noticed the anger emanating from Daryl.

After she had finished her story, everyone else shared theirs. Michonne told everyone about finding Beth and then going to the armory at Terminus while the others got her back to the cars. She was able to sneak in and grab two bags full of guns and ammo. The trouble had come when she tried to leave. That's when things went to shit. She'd run straight into a guard, who she'd cut down immediately only to have been seen doing so by another who raised an alarm, right before she cut him down.

Rosita shared some of what she and Daryl went through, told them about Chip. Beth found herself feeling irrationally jealous that this woman had shared something so profound with Daryl. She should have been there to hold his hand and tell him he'd done the right thing, and she would, later.

Carl told everyone about finding Michonne. Everyone laughed we he told how she had just appeared and knocked on the door like it was an every day visit. The laughter doubled when he told them about the chocolate pudding he'd found.

Bob and Sasha told Maggie's story. They told of how certain she was she would find Glenn, how she kept the m together. Tara filled in Glenn's side of the story. Rick looked at her like he was trying to solve a puzzle, like he'd seen her before.

The sun was setting when Glenn had come in at the end of the story, wrapped an arm around Maggie and joked about how he preferred text messaging to blood messaging.

When the stories had died down, and people began to make their ways to their claimed sleeping areas, Glenn and Maggie helped Beth upstairs to her bed.

"Glenn, where's Daryl?" she asked as she settled in the bed. She still thought it was silly she had a room to herself, and Maggie and Glen had to sleep on the floor. She hated the way everyone was fussing over her.

"He said he was going hunting."

"Hunting in the dark?"

"Hey, that's what he said. Don't shoot the messenger."

"But, he could get hurt out there on his own." Beth was anxious. What was he thinking going out at night? She had made for the door, but Maggie stopped her.

"Where do you think you're going? Even if you weren't hurt, you're not going out there at night," Maggie smiled hoping to be reassuring, "He's Daryl Dixon. He'll be fine." She kissed Beth on the head and she and Glenn left. They continued talking in the hall though. Beth could just make out their muffled whispers.

"Was he okay?"

"I don't know, I've never seen him so angry. And he's not exactly Miss Susie Sunshine…"

They moved further down the hall, leaving her alone with her worries. Being angry was bad, it could cloud his vision, make him stupid. She wasn't sure why he was so mad anyway. She allowed herself to think she meant more to him than she had realized. But if that were true, why was he outside killing things instead of in here holding her? He hadn't talked to her, hadn't touched her since that first tender reunion.

When he'd realized what had happened to her foot, he had gone completely tense and stood up, breaking that beautiful moment. He stood in front of her, faces inches from her, biting his lip like he wanted to say something, but he just ran his hand through his hair, then scooped her up and deposited her on the couch, barking at Bob to come and look at her foot. She still refused to look at the gory stump herself, but she surrendered to the former medic's ministrations. Daryl stood against the wall, refusing to meet her eye.

Maybe he didn't want her anymore; maybe a one-footed girl was too big a burden. She couldn't expect him to piggy back her around everywhere after all, but it hurt that he wouldn't even look at her.

She tried to stay awake that night and listen for door opening, but the meds Bob had given her soon had her dozing off. She shivered a bit under her thin blanket. Rick had said they couldn't risk a fire, the smoke could alert someone to their presence, and while they were far out and he and Carl had slashed the tires on all the vehicles they had found, there was no guarantee someone from Terminus wasn't looking for them, not to mention other possibly hostile people. For now, he had said, it was best to huddle under the blankets. So Beth had curled in on herself, and when she woke, there was another blanket on her.

Now, here she was with Maggie asking questions she had no clue how to answer about a man who was even more confusing than ever.

She hoped he'd be back soon.


	16. Chapter 16

Daryl saw smoke in the distance, too small to be a brush fire, it had to be campfire. "Shit," he cursed under his breath. It was awful close to the house he had left everyone at last week.

He pulled the truck to the side of the road and turned the engine off. He grabbed his bag, making sure his precious cargo was still in tact, slung his bow over his back and headed in the direction of the smoke.

He had learned time and time again, not to trust people. Beth had said there were still good people, for a moment he had almost believed her, but she was wrong. He was never going to trust her safety or the safety of their family to strangers again. These people, whoever they were, were too close to the ones he loved and he was going to remedy the situation.

It didn't take long for him to find the camp, they weren't even trying to hide. When he was close enough to hear the crackling of the fire he crouched behind a tree.

He peeked around the trunk of the ancient pine. The strangers had a makeshift tarp tent strung between two trees, a fire was burning near by but he didn't see anyone. He strained his ears and could just make out the soft breathing of someone asleep coming from the tent.

Was this person alone? If so, he was dumber than Daryl originally thought. He skirted the area, quiet as possible to check for signs of another stranger. The signs were there, clear as day. At least two people had passed this way, and not long ago. He had just enough time to register the information, before he heard the twig snap behind him. He turned, crossbow high, in time to see a bundle of fagots hit the ground.

The noise of the wood crashing to the forest floor and the accompany cry of the man who had dropped it roused the sleeper. "What's wrong?" called a feminine voice, then "Shhh, sweetie, it's okay, shh" as a baby started to cry.

…...

Beth tied the green ribbon around the scraggly branch just above her head; a double knot to be sure it stayed in place. It was too valuable to risk it falling to the ground or being knocked loose by a passerby. Once she was satisfied it wasn't going to be lost, Maggie helped her back to the car and they continued on their way to...somewhere new.

She looked back at the tree line, pleased at how difficult it was to see the ribbon. If someone wasn't looking for it, he wouldn't find it. But, if someone was looking for it, and if that someone happened to be the best tracker in Georgia, well he should be just fine.

Leaving the house earlier that day was the hardest thing she had ever had to do, and life wasn't exactly easy since the world went to shit. But Rick had said they couldn't stay. They had spotted smoke from someone's camp fire a little too close for comfort. They had to go. She was just about to suggest she stay behind when he handed her the box of ribbon and she had smiled as picked the perfect color. Green.

…...

"Daryl?" Tyrese asked as he looked around the crossbow in his face. "Daryl?" He started to laugh in pure relief as Daryl lowered the bow.

Daryl allowed a small smile to play on his lips. "Hey man, who you here with?"

"Carol, come here, you gotta see this!" the big man choked around his laughs.

Daryl's mind was racing. Carol, had he said Carol? It couldn't possibly be the same Carol. And if it was, if Carol was behind him right now, then that crying baby had to be...

He heard the leaves rustle behind him, heard the sharp intake of breath, heard the soft gurgle of the baby, and still he couldn't make himself turn around.

Tyresse was grinning like an idiot in a toy store.

"D-daryl." Carol whispered. She stared at the wings on his back, wanting to run to him, wanting to touch him to be sure he was real. But he hadn't turned yet. "Daryl, " she said louder this time, "Daryl, look at me, please."

Slowly, he turned, he could hear the tears in her voice, dropping his bow down his leg. His head down he looked at her through his long hair. "Knew you'd make it."

They all laughed.

…...

Beth tied another ribbon, this time to a street sign. A little more obvious than the previous ones perhaps, but still meaningless without the trail.

"So, this Daryl guy, he your uncle or something? Boyfriend?"

Beth tried to hide the angry blush creeping up her face from Rosita's question. "No, no, not my uncle. Not Daryl."

"Oh, well, I thought, the way you two were acting, the way he looked at you, talked about you, the way you're leaving these clues. I figured you were close." Rosita snaked her arm around Beth's waist as she helped her to sit on the curb near the sign.

"Daryl's a special guy. He's tough, too tough for his own good sometimes. Loyal beyond belief. Yeah, we're close, we were anyway." Beth took the water bottle her companion offered.

"And, he has an amazing ass." Rosita chuckled at her comment. Beth knew the other woman was trying to be friendly, trying to have "girl talk." Beth did not appreciate it and she thought it showed on her face when Rosita's laughter stopped short. "Umm, you okay?" she asked uncomfortably.

"Oh, yeah, fine." Beth tried to recover. Maggie always said she wore her emotions on her face for all to see. "Can I tell you a secret?" she whispered leaning closer to Rosita. "My favorite thing about Daryl, is his hands. His strong, rough capable hands." She leaned closer, whispered lower, "And let me tell you, he knows exactly how to use them." She smirked at the confused look on Rosita's face and decided to have mercy on her. "Daryl and I, I'm not really sure where we stand now, but deep down, I know I'm his, have been since he saved me at the prison." She looked straight into Rosita's eyes, "And boyfriend is not the right word for him. The right word is mine. Daryl is mine."

Rosita chuckled again, a little shakily, "Fair enough, then."

They sat in companionable silence for a while, sipping at their water,until they heard Glenn whistle for their attention. It was time to move on.

…...

Daryl led the way back to the truck after they packed up the campsite. The whole way back all he could think of, was Beth's face when she saw Lil' Ass Kicker.

They threw their things in the back of the truck and climbed in. Daryl drove, and Carol sat in the middle holding Judith in her lap. It wasn't long before everyone was dozing off as Daryl drove toward the house. Carol's head fell against Daryl's shoulder and she reflexively snuggled into him as she gripped the baby in her arms.

He considered waking her up or just trying to move her head without waking her. It felt wrong to have someone so close to him, especially a woman who wasn't Beth. He loved Carol, she had been the first person to see him as something other than just a dumb redneck. She had cared for him and they had grown close.

He figured they must be exhausted. Being on the run was hard, being on the run with a small baby? It was impossible. But, they had done it. They had kept her safe.

He left Carol alone to get the sleep he knew she must needed and stepped a little harder on the gas pedal, ready to see Beth's face light up.

…...

Beth lowered herself on her new bed. She still thought it was silly for her to get her own bed. She was healing well, and even able to get around a bit on her own with a large stick Carl had found for her. He had been so proud of it when he showed her.

This was the second day in this house. Rick had said they could stay here a little while, maybe, give Daryl a chance to catch up. He assigned watches and then he and Abraham had gone off together to discuss the groups' futures and whether or not those futures lay down the same road.

Beth didn't mind the idea of going to DC. What else were they doing with their lives? And if this guy Eugene was right, they could hardly refuse to help him. But she was not leaving Georgia without Daryl. They were right on the border now, had been for a day or two, traveling east rather than north. It was almost like the border was a tangible wall and no one was ready to cross it just yet.

Beth sat staring out the window, waiting for any sign of him coming back to her. She thought back to the time when she and Daryl seemed to do nothing but run. She hoped he was running now, as fast as he could, back to her.

…...

"There, another one, on that street sign." Tyrese called. They had been following the green ribbons all day.

Daryl was worried when he got back to the house and everyone was gone. There was no sign of a struggle though and that eased his mind some, but what had spooked them? He checked over the house carefully to find the sign Rick had promised to leave. He found the first ribbon tied to the bedpost where Beth had slept. The next one was on the lowest branch of the tree in the north corner of the yard. Another was tied on the side of the road, practically invisible. "Clever, Greene, clever," he smiled to himself.

He, Tyrese, and Carol had been watching for the ribbons all day, feeling each one bringing them closer to home. They made one stop in a small town to check for baby formula. The local grocery had been picked clean but they found a house on the far edge of town with lots of toys in the front yard. A large family must have lived there once. They found two cans of formula, one was open and, molded, the other was still sealed. They also found a few salvageable bottles and some clothes Judy could grow into.

"Why don't we stay here for the night? I think we could all use the rest." Carol asked when Tyrese and Daryl had come out of the house with their finds.

"Nah, gotta keep going." Daryl replied. He was more than ready to get back to Beth; every moment away from her was agonizing. What if something happened and he wasn't there to protect her, again?No, it was best to keep moving. The ribbons seemed to be getting shorter and spaced further a part. She may be running out of ribbon. "Come on y'all. We best get moving."

The other two sighed but no one argued and no one asked why he as in such a hurry. They hadn't talked much at all really, except to confirm who was still alive. He had noticed neither of them seemed to want to talk about Lizzy and Mikka and he didn't push them.

Tyrese seemed ready to get back to the others. There was built up tension between he and Carol and Darryl could easily guess why. The baby and a need to not be alone was all that was holding the two together.

The small group climbed into the truck and followed the trail home.

…...


	17. Chapter 17

Beth heard gravel fly as a car tore down the driveway before the engine was cut and two doors opened and closed. Momentary panic rolled through her body, whoever this was was making no attempt to hide their presence, then she heard Rick's muffled voice, he sounded pleased, and a low, gruff voice responded, clipped and brief. Daryl was back.

Beth dismissed the sound of the second door and the preceding commotion as apparently new people met with the group. Daryl was always bringing home strays. That didn't matter. She wanted to run out and throw her arms around him, but with all the questions she'd been getting from Maggie lately, not to mention how he had acted the last time she saw him, she felt it best to stay back.

She raised herself from the kitchen table, where she'd been slicing wild onions, and with the help of the walking stick Carl had found for her, hobbled back to her room.

She walked into the room and stopped short. He was already there, standing in the middle of the room, staring at her and holding a bundle in his hand.

She closed the door silently behind her and leaned against it. They stood in awkward silence for a moment, before they both began to talk at once.

"I thought you..."

"I was gonna..."

They stopped short and both smiled. Daryl studied his shoes, looking for all the world like a shy school boy. "Hey," Beth whispered.

"Hey. I uh, I'm sorry I just left."

"I knew you'd be back."

He looked up at her and grinned. "Found your trail. Thanks."

Beth limped to the bed and sat down heavily, tired from her exertions. She tucked the stick away at the foot of the bed. "So, where did you go anyway?"

"I went to get you something." He knelt before her and placed the bundle he carried in her lap. "Here. I think I got the right size."

Beth unwrapped the gift and her eyes widened. "Oh Daryl. How? Where?"

She met his eyes." I uh- Merle told me about a place he found, where he fixed himself up," he glanced away, "same place I got your dad's," he looked back at her.

Beth's eyes sparkled with moisture. "Daryl, I, you didn't have to..."

"I did. Beth, this, it's all my fault. If, I had taken care of you, this would never have happened." He put his head on her knee.

"Daryl, no. It is not your fault." She put a hand gingerly on the top of his head. His hair was filthy and tangled. "You did everything you could; you saved me- several times. And now this. Daryl, what would I do without you?"

He sat up and smirked at her, his head cocked, "I don't know the way Michonne talks, you didn't need no one."

They smiled at each other for a moment, neither sure what to say, 'til he reached out and took the prosthetic foot from Beth. "Wanna see if it fits?"

She nodded her head vigorously and he pushed up her pant leg to reveal her stump. It was healing, but still raw and red and ugly. She turned her head from the sight and flinched when he softly touched her stump. He didn't miss her reaction.

"Beth? You okay? Hey look at me Greene."

She swallowed a sob and turned but didn't look at him until he put a finger on her her chin, and pushed her face up. "You are beautiful, Beth, and you're gonna be okay. You're tougher than you know. Now, let's get you suited up."

He went back to work, gentle and sure and in no time he had the new limb attached and adjusted then pulled her old boot from his bag and slipped it over the foot. It looked as though nothing was at all wrong.

He stood and held out his hands to help her up, "Come on Greene, I can't be giving you piggy back rides all over the place."

She scoffed, "Not even serious ones?" and took his hands allowing him to pull her off the bed. He pulled a little too hard though and she stumbled in to his chest.

"Sorry," he mumbled as he helped her steady herself. He held her to him and each was suddenly aware of everything that had passed between them, the touches and kisses, the tenderness and need. Their heads moved toward each other and just before their lips touched a piercing cry split the silence of the house.

"Was that a baby?" Beth couldn't believe what she'd just heard. If she didn't know any better, she'd say it sounded like Judith, but that just wasn't possible. She remembered the two doors slamming, the commotion when Daryl had gotten back.

"His face was glowing with excitement. "Come'on Greene, found somethin' else on my way back."

He held her elbow and together they made halting progress down the hall. The prosthetic felt strange and heavy, she wanted to run, but knew she'd only end up falling on her face, so she kept a steady pace all the while a familiar cry urged her to hurry.

…...

Daryl watched Beth as she cradled Judith in her arms. The baby had stopped crying the moment Beth took her from Rick, who was understandably reluctant to give her up. Rick and Carol were deep in conversation now, but Daryl saw how Rick's eyes were never far from his baby. Carl sat on the couch next to Beth, hovering over his sister.

Beth rocked slowly, humming a quiet song, her tears of joy finally dried up. "You wanna hold her?" She asked Carl, who nodded, still not trusting his voice. "She's asleep no." She gently placed the baby in her brother's arms and quietly stood. She winced when she took a step toward Daryl and he was at her side in an instant to steady her. He was about to pick her up but she stopped him.

"I got it, I gotta learn to do this on my own." She was right, but he hated to see her in pain. Every hiss, every sharp intake of breath, lanced him with guilt. He wanted to wrap her in cotton and put her up where she could never be hurt again, but instead he nodded and took a step back. He watched as Beth took a few careful steps down the hall, he wanted to follow her, but was still unsure what she wanted.

It seemed like forever ago when they had been in the house together; when she had made a nest on the floor and had come to him boldly wanting something neither of them really understood; when she had listened to his secrets without judgment or pity; when she had lent him her strength to bring him out of his cycle of self loathing. He could never pay her back for that, he just hoped he could live up to her expectations. He had failed her too many times already, first letting someone take her and hurt her; then again by joining Joe and his gang.

Now her she was being strong again and all he wanted to do was coddle her. She had had enough of that in her life though, it was time for her to be more than the farmer's daughter masquerading as a damsel in distress, and she had already proven she ready for it.

He watched her as he mulled things over, wanting to go but not wanting to make her think he was hovering. She reached the door, hand on the knob then looked at him over her shoulder. "You coming?"

She smiled and pushed the door open.


	18. Chapter 18

Daryl walked in and closed the door behind him. As he turned around Beth threw her arms around his neck and began kissing him all over. Each kiss was punctuated by a word, "Thank, you, so, much."

"Whoa, whoa, slow down Greene. What you got to be thanking me for anyway?"

She stood down and looked at him confused, "Are you serious? You found them. Tyrese, Judith and Carol." Then a thought occurred to her. Carol. She was so happy about Judith earlier that she didn't stop to consider the others much. She knew Daryl and Carol were friends, pretty close actually, before everything happened, but how close? What if, now that Carol was back, he didn't want her anymore? Carol was more his age, she was tough, and pretty.

It was a sobering thought. She released him and went over to sit on the bed, wrapping her arms around herself. Daryl kicked himself, what had he done to cause that reaction. "Beth, you okay? Ah shit, what did I do?"

"Nothin'." She forced a smile. "Look, Daryl, I just want you to know, it's okay. If you want to be with...her, you should."

"What are you on about? Who are you talkin' about?" Daryl was getting irritated. He was in unfamiliar territory and didn't know which way to go.

"Don't pretend with me. You could have anyone you want, and you don't owe me nothin'. You can go, I'm sure she's waiting for you anyway."

Daryl started to pace and run his fingers through his hair. "I ain't pretendin' nothin', girl." He was tryin not to yell, but she wasn't making any sense. "Who are you talking' about?"

"Carol."

He stopped pacing and looked at her. His eyes bore into hers and all at once his anger drained from his body. In that moment she was a young girl who had laid her heart on the line and need to be reassured that heart wasn't going to be destroyed. She had reassured him, now he needed to do the same to her.

"I care about Carol," Daryl whispered, "she means a lot to me, but Beth, you gotta know, I don't want Carol. Never did."

She scoffed, "What about Rosita?"

"Who?" She was being ridiculous and it was hard for him to be patient, but she deserved for him to try.

She rolled her eyes. "Rosita, you know, hot girl with the amazing boobs? She thinks you have a nice ass."

He laughed, "Really, well..." he pretended to think about it, "Maybe I'll just go say hi."

She threw a pillow at his head and he caught it easily. "Ass."

"Come one Greene, what do you want me to say? Huh? I don't want Carol, don't want Rosita or anyone else." He waited for her look at him. "I want you Beth. Thought you felt the same."

"Course I do. But..."

"But what?" He was getting irritated again. What did he have to say to convince her. "Dammit Grenne, I ain't good at this..." He ran his hand threw his hair, trying to calm down, "Look, I don't know how to prove to you what you mean to me." She didn't say anything and he began to fill the quiet with a rambling rush of words. "When I lost you, I lost a piece of myself, the best part. I haven't let anyone get that close, ever. For the first time I felt like it was okay to just be me. And when we, when we were together, I never did anything like that. I mean I had been with women, but they were just whores, just a means to an end. But not you, I thought..." she still wasn't talking and he couldn't seem to stop himself. "I don't know exactly what is goin' on, never did this, but you ain't gonna just push me aside. I ain't goin' nowhere, and I don't want no one 'cept you. I, dammit Beth Greene, I fucking love you and..-"

"What?"

He stopped realizing what he had just said. He meant it, he knew he did, but he'd never said that to anyone, never felt the need. But he knew he loved her, how could he not. He shrugged, suddenly embarrassed and awkward. "I love you." He looked at her through his bangs an unsteady smile slowly crossing his face.

Beth smiled too. She was blown away, she never expected something like this. "Daryl I-"

His smile began to falter. Maybe she didn't feel the same after all. "It's okay if you don't, ya know, he shrugged again and started walking toward the door. "I best go find somethin' for dinner. Saw a deer a few miles back."

He had his hand on the door when she whispered, "please don't go."

"Why not?" He couldn't take much more; he needed a real answer from her.

She walked over to the door, put her hand on his."I love you Daryl Dixon." She locked the door.

He turned back to her, he never thought he'd heard his name and those words in the same sentence. She wrapped her arms around his wist and he lifted her chin so he could kiss her. Their lips met softly and slowly at first, but soon their bodies were more demanding. The kiss deepened until it was a battle of lips and teeth and tongues.

She started walking backward toward the bed, holding on to him for support and to be sure he followed her. He didn't need much encouragement. He pulled off his vest and shirt as he followed her, and she worked furiously at the few buttons on her own top then pulled it off and threw it across the room.

He moved his mouth to her neck as he began to work on her pants. She laughed as his fingers ran across her sensitive stomach. She ran her hands over his scarred back and he didn't seem to mind this time.

Her calves hit the back of the bed and she fell down to it. He stood above her for a moment, kicking off his boots and helping her with hers before pulling her pants carefully from her long white legs. She sat up as he discarded the clothing and opened his belt buckle. She kissed his stomach, as she worked the button of his jeans. Then she ran her hands around the waistline of the pants and slowly pushed the unwanted garment down, gripping his ass as he bent to kiss her. He pushed her back on the bed and climbed on with her.

He felt her body tense bellow him when he reached up to lightly caress her breast. He stopped touching her immediately and rolled away from her. Her eyes were squeezed tight and she had unconsciously reached up to hide herself with her arms.

"Beth, what's the matter. We can stop if you want."

"No, no sorry. I just, " she was breathing heavily, trying to calm down. "I just, had a flashback to those men, at our house..." she didn't have to continue, he knew what she meant. Those men had tried to rape her. He was an idiot. He should have known that would bother her. "I'm fine, just give me a moment." She sat up, facing away from him.

He sat too, still not touching her. "Beth, you know, I would never hurt you." He kissed her shoulder, she didn't move away. "I love you." It felt so good to say that. He kissed her other shoulder. He could feel her relaxing. He moved to her neck and her ear, leaving a trail of hot kisses on her skin. She began to lean back against him, reaching back to touch his head as his bit lightly at her back. She moaned and he slowly wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her back against him. He ran the hand holding her down between her legs and whispered, "tell me to stop if I go too far."

She only moaned more as his finger began to move against her and his mouth went back to her throat. He ran his other hand up her arm, sending goose bumps across her body. Her back began to arch against him as he continued to move his hand against her clit and the other moved to caress her breast again. She didn't tense this time and he redoubled his efforts. With every touch of his lip and every stroke of his finger she moaned and arched until at last she collapsed against his chest her head rolling to the side over his shoulder. He ran his hands up her arms and folded them around her chest, holding her close as he continued to place small kisses on her exposed flesh.

"Mmm, Daryl" she growled as she turned in his arms so that she was facing him again. Their lips met, not softly this time, but hungrily. He held the back of her head as the kiss deepened more and she held tight to his shoulders as she lowered herself on to him, taking him in to her fully. He gasped as she began to move her hips. He let her take control and set the pace so he didn't spook her again.

He moved his hand up her back and to her shoulders to pull her even closer to him. Their hands and mouths were everywhere as she continued to move against him. The tension in the room was palpable as they neared climax together.

He put his forehead against hers and he nails dug into his shoulders as she moved faster. Finally the tension burst, he shuddered, she screamed and a split second later Maggie banged on the door. "Beth? Are you okay, I heard screaming. Beth open the door!"


	19. Chapter 19

"Beth! Open the door Beth!" Maggie screamed as she banged on the bedroom door. "Beth are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah hold on." Beth shouted as she and Daryl started scrambling for their clothes. "I'm coming."

Daryl pulled his pants up and Beth slid into her clothes, buttoning her pants as she walked toward the door. She glanced back at Daryl who was still searching for his shirt and running his hands though his hair. Beth found his vest and tossed it, at least he could cover his back. She made sure he had time to get it on before she opened the door Maggie was still frantically pounding on. Daryl kicked discarded underwear under the bed and nodded to Beth who at last heeded her big sister.

Maggie burst into the room taking Beth's face in her hands and Glen wasn't far behind. Beth was sure she heard laughter coming from the living room. Maggie was still searching Beth's face for any sign of harm as Glen let out a long whistle. "Hey Mags, maybe we should go."

"What are you talking about? Beth what happened? You're flush. Are you okay?"

"Mags, come one." Glen was chuckling as he touched her elbow and Maggie started to shake him off but her attention was caught by the man standing on the other side of the room. She looked from Beth's flush face to Daryl's bare feet- Daryl never went around without shoes. Then she saw Beth's bra on the floor and her expression changed dramatically from that of sisterly concern to fierce mama bear protecting her young. She pulled Beth behind her and pointed a finger at Daryl, "What the hell did you do to her you bastard?"

Several emotions warred on Daryl's face, shock, anger, frustration, fear- anger won. "What did you say to me?" he asked as he stepped menacingly toward Maggie. "You accusin' me of somethin'?" He stepped closer 'til he was in her face, but she wasn't backing down. He sounded angry but Beth could hear the hurt under the anger. She tried to go around Maggie but the older Greene had a tight hold on the younger.

"You know what I'm saying you dirty redneck." Maggie closed what little distance was between them. "How dare you touch her. She's a kid."

"She ain't no damn kid." he yelled back, raising a hand to emphasize his point.

"Yeah well, you made damn sure of that didn't you." she practically spat out before punching him right across the jaw. He made no move to defend himself, in truth there was some small part of him that thought he deserved it. Maggie raised her hand to strike him again but Glen grabbed her arm before she could land anymore blows as Beth ran from behind her to Daryl; there was a small bleeding cut on his check from Maggie's ring.

Beth touched the cut gingerly then rounded on her sister. "Don't you touch him again! What the hell is wrong with you?" Daryl grabbed her by the waist when it looked like she was going to go after her sister.

"Me, what's wrong with you? Why are you defending him?"

"He ain't done nothin' wrong."

"Maggie," Glen cut in, "Come on. It's Daryl, you know he's a good guy, he would never do what you're accusing him of. You know that." He tried to turn Maggie to look at him, but she wouldn't take her eyes off Beth.

"Beth, I want you to stay away from him, am I clear?"

"You ain't my mama Maggie, and you can't tell me what to do."

"He's twice your age!"

"Who cares? What difference does age matter? I can make my own decisions! It ain't like I slept with someone I barely know, 'cause I was bored."

"Hey!" Glen cried out.

Maggie ignored the comment, "You stay away from him or-"

"Or what? You'll tell Daddy?" Beth was trying to keep it together but her voice broke. Maggie was finally speechless.

Beth turned back to Daryl and he wrapped his arms possessively, and protectively, around her shoulders. "Get out Maggie," she whispered.

But Maggie didn't seem quite ready to give up the fight. She started to step toward the couple but Glenn stopped her again. "Mags come on. Leave'em be. Think about it, if she's not safe with him, who she safe with?"

"Safe? He lost her. If not for him she wouldn't have got taken by those sickos at Terminus." Maggie said to Glenn.

Daryl's arms tightened around Beth, "And where were you, huh? Where were you after the prison? Where were you when your sister needed you? Huh?" He was speaking quietly, but it was more threatening than any shouting. "Where were you when your sister needed'ya?"

"I-" Maggie started and stopped, "Where were you when she was trapped and alone and, and" Maggie's voice was breaking now and she at last allowed Glenn to hold her.

"Would you two stop it. It ain't your fault and it ain't yours either." Beth walked away fro Daryl and Maggie both and sunk on the bed. "Bad shit happens, can't we just enjoy the good things while we got'em. I just want to find some happiness in this suck-ass world Maggie."

"And he makes you happy?"

"I love him. Now, please just get out."

Maggie stormed out of the room and Beth knew it wouldn't be the last time they would discuss the matter. She loved her sister, but sometimes, she wished Maggie would stop treating her like a child.

"Don't worry about it guys, she'll come around." Glen said as he watched Maggie stomping down the hall. "Seriously, I'm happy for you."

"Thanks, man, for what you said." Daryl said as Glenn slapped him on the back.

"No sweat, an it's about time you found someone. Oh and Beth, it looks like your foot grew back," Glenn laughed, "it looks good on you."

Beth turned and glared at him, he only laughed harder and walked out.

"You okay?" Daryl asked as he sat on the bed next to Beth.

"Yeah, fine."she leaned her head on his shoulder and he kissed her on the head then rose slowly. He pulled on his socks and boots and finally grabbed his crossbow from where it leaned on the wall by the door.

"Where ya goin?" Beth asked, for a moment afraid Maggie had scared him off."

"Huntin'. Gotta get somethin' for dinner." he replied

"Oh." she said crestfallen.

He was at the door when he turned, smiling broadly, "You comin' Greene?"


	20. Chapter 20

Beth held the crossbow to her shoulder aiming straight ahead keeping her breath steady and her eyes focused. She was tracking an animal she thought was a wild pig based on the prints she had found and how low the trail was. She followed the bent grass and disturbed bracken while walking slowly, testing the ground before she let her foot fall.

Daryl walked safely behind her, amused at how proud she seemed of herself. He was proud of her too. She took to hunting like a natural, soaking in all his tips and lessons. He still had to draw and load the bow for her, so he'd have to teach her traps soon. If anything happened and they were separated again, he wanted to be sure he had done everything possible to prepare her. "Never gonna happen," he thought to himself; he was not going to lose her again, ever.

Despite what Maggie had said, he loved Beth, he was finally starting to think maybe her age didn't matter, that they could be together, but Maggie's reaction stung deep. To hear all the things he had thought about himself come from someone's mouth, maybe she was right. Maybe he should apologize to Beth, jump in the truck and drive away, and not come back this time. Maybe that would be best for everyone- except him; without her he didn't know if he could carry on in this world. He was glad Beth was in front of him and couldn't see the war he was raging on himself. He knew what she would say, he remembered her telling him she loved him, telling her sister to go away and he tried to cling to those images.

Beth raised her hand to signal a stop. Daryl listened closely and heard why she had called the halt, something was rustling in the bushes ahead. Beth looked back over her shoulder, all smiles, pleased with herself. He pointed ahead, signaling she should pay attention, and she grew serious once more turning back to her prey.

Daryl watched her shoulder blades flex as she took aim, breathed deep and pulled the trigger. The bolt whistled as it flew through the air and disappeared through the leaves. There was a thunk, a squeal and a crash. Beth practically squealed in delight when she pushed back the bush to show Daryl her first kill.

"Alright, alright, calm down Greene. It's just a pig." He said though he was smiling just as broadly as she was. "Nice shot though," he complimented as he pulled the bolt out of the pig's chest. "Guess you don't need me any more." He tried to say it jokingly, but she could tell there was an edge of worry there. Was he still upset about the things Maggie had said? They hadn't talked about it, but she knew the accusations cut him deep. She was used to being treated like a kid, and she supposed he had been used to being treated like a dumb redneck. But she had promised him, she wouldn't let anyone hurt him, and she meant it, f if the person hurting him was her sister. For now though, she needed away to distract him from the cruel things Maggie had said.

"Don't be silly," she said sweetly as she picked up his hand. He smiled at her, "If I didn't have you," she stepped closer to him, til she was inches from his lips, "who would help me carry this home?"

She kissed him hard and fast on the lips and laughed as she ran away to hide behind a tree. "That how it is, Greene?" he growled.

"Yeah, that's how it is Dixie" she said as she dashed behind a different tree and he stalked her. He was hunting now. She was still laughing when he walked around the tree she backed up into another tree. He came nearer and she swallowed her laughter, he leaned in closer, devouring her with his eyes, he stopped just shy of kissing her and instead of closing the distance he smiled and slung her over his shoulder and spun her around. Dizzy they fell to the ground in a heap of laughter.

"Dixie?"

"Yeah, you need a nickname," she said as she laced her fingers through his.

"Ain't never needed one before." He said between breaths. "Sounds like a dog's name."

"Fine, well if you don't like that Mr. Dixon, what do you like?" she rose to sit on her knees next to him.

He took a deep breath and propped up on an elbow looking at the ground as he twiddled a piece of grass in his fingers. "How 'bout that?"

"What?" she thought for a moment, "Oh, Mr. Dixon?"

"Yeah," he risked a glance at her, she was beaming of course.

"Okay, Mr. Dixon." She leaned over and kissed him softly.

"Come on Greene, We got a pig to carry."

"It ain't going no where, Mr. Dixon." She laughed and deepened the kiss until he responded like she wanted, which didn't take long.

She had always wanted to make out in the woods.

…...

Daryl leaned against the truck bed and rubbed his neck, wishing he had a cigarette. That damned pig was heavy. He tried not to think of the looks he had gotten when he walked into the kitchen to drop off the butchered meat. Maggie walked out in a huff, but Carol, she looked hurt and confused though at least she tried to hide it from him with a weak smile. She caught him before he could leave and hugged him lightly, "I'm happy for you" she had said, "you deserve to have someone love you." He almost thought she meant it, hell maybe she did. As he walked out of the room he heard an echo from the past, "Just remember, I loved you first, Pookie." Maggie's anger was easier to handle.

The street in front of the house was quiet. There was no sound of trouble from the trees surrounding the house, so when Rick opened the screen door, the screech of the hinges seemed to reverberate through the area.

Daryl met Rick at the edge of the porch and they took a seat on the stairs. Daryl stared at the gravel drive waiting for the lecture to begin.

"I'm happy for you man." Rick said quietly.

'Really? You don't think I'm a dirty old redneck?" Daryl snorted.

"No, I know you're a dirty old redneck." Rick laughed and elbowed Daryl's side. "Why? Do you?"

Daryl didn't laugh back. "Honestly man, some part of me does. But, I need her, ya know? It ain't about sex either. Beth, she keeps me human."

"I understand. You don't have to justify it to me. Things like age don't matter in this world. What matters is you hold on to her as long as you can." Rick's voice cracked with suppressed emotion and he stood, squeezing Daryl's shoulder before walking back inside.

The door screeched twice more as Rick went in and someone else walked out. Daryl didn't turn to look but he didn't have to.

"Sorry." Maggie said as she sunk down next to him, taking the place Rick had just vacated.

"For what?" he asked gruffly, trying to stay relaxed.

"For, hitting you, for the things I said."

"Don't be. It alright."

"No it ain't. You didn't deserve it. I just...she's my baby sister. I was shocked." Maggie looked hard at the side of her face as he looked anywhere but at her. "To be honest, it still bothers me. I know it's the apocalypse an all, but still...Look, I know you're a good guy, I do. You've kept us all safe and fed for so long and you deserve happiness, but...It'll just take some getting used to."

Daryl listened closely through her speech, "No big deal. Hell, I'm still getting used to it. It wasn't exactly my idea." He smiled as he remembered Beth coming to him, her boldness and vulnerability.

Maggie surprised him with a chuckle, "Yeah well, her favorite movie was always Lady and the Tramp." He finally looked at her, and couldn't help but smile at her. She was more like her sister than he thought.

The door squealed again, announcing Glen's presence. "Whoa, everything okay you two?" he asked awkwardly.

"Yeah," Maggie stood. "Just apologizing."

"Apologizing, really? How do you do it man?" he jostled Daryl's shoulder lightly. "Come on, we're going on a run," he said to Maggie.

"Okay," she took a bag from Glen and they walked past him down the stairs. Maggie looked back at him, "Oh and Daryl? Next time keep it down?"

He joined in the laughter this time, "Tell that to Beth?"

The door opened again, "Tell what to Beth?" Beth asked as she stepped out.

The other three laughed even harder. Daryl stood and wrapped an arm around Beth and kissed her on the top of her head.

"Later Greene, let's go check the perimeter.

…...

Beth squeezed Daryl's shoulder as they stood to the side of the road waving everyone on. They had gone ahead to scout the highway, to be sure the cars could get through, luckily they could.

Just up the road was a large green sign that read, "Now leaving Georgia" Daryl stared at it as the last car drove by. Beth waited a moment, then pulled on his hand, leading him to the truck they'd left on the side of the road where Tyrese was keeping watch on the tree line.

Tyrese climbed in at their approach and Daryl held the driver's side door for Beth. He looked around behind him one more time before slipping in next to Beth.

"I ain't never been out of Georgia before," Beth heard him screaming from the past. She pressed close to him and he wrapped an arm around her and threw the the truck in to gear.

Beth linked her fingers with his and held tight as they passed another sign that read "Now entering Tennessee."

They were running. Not running away anymore, but running to something. Hope. Not running alone anymore, running with others. Family. They were running, always running.


	21. notes

Note from the Author

Hey guys, I forgot to add this to the last chapter.

The last chapter was, well, the last chapter. I thought this would be a good place to end things for now. I have a few ideas for short piece to accompany this story and will get those up when I can- listed as a different work.

Thank you so much for all your comments and support it has meant a ton!


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